The Marriage of True Minds- Castle Edition
by abbyfillion22
Summary: The Castle characters spun into The Marriage of True Minds by Stephen Evens (a novel being optioned by Stana Katic's production company, Sine Timore) Set years in the future after Castle and Beckett have been married and divorced, Castle gets himself into a rut that ultimately leaves Kate to care for and hopefully fall back in love with him.
1. Chapter 1

Kate unfolds the New York Post and flips to page six. She immediately groans when she sees the headline.

**BELOVED AUTHOR, RICHARD CASTLE, ARRESTED FOR RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT**

Despite herself, she reads on.

_Richard Castle, best known for his bestselling Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat novels, was pulled over by traffic control last night for drag racing another vehicle in his cherry red Ferrari. Mr. Castle, a former consultant for the NYPD, chose not to comment on the matter but sources say that his connections with the PD will get him out of any major charges. However, due to Castle's past criminal history, we have reason to believe that this last strike may land him time behind bars. Castle's former wife, Detective Kate Beckett, was not available for comment._

* * *

After the divorce, Castle went through a bit of a phase that Kate assumed he would grow out of with time. The phase consisted of wild parties at the loft that ended in a neighbor's call to the police, sojourns to exotic countries for the thrill, and donating huge sums of money to random charities that left him more or less broke.

His phase also put quite a bit of duress on Kate. Every time he got arrested, she was there to bail him out and had their lawyer ready to testify. She was always on her toes; worrying about what shenanigans he would get into next.

She strode out of the elevator, past Esposito who was pretending to be working at his desk, and to the holding cells.

Esposito dropped what he was doing and jogged after her.

"Where is he?" she asked.

Esposito caught up to her. "Nice to see you too."

"Where is he?" Kate repeated.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Beckett."

She turned to face him. "I want to talk to him."

"I don't think that's such a good idea…"

"Javi," she said firmly. "I can't let him go to jail. I don't care if it didn't end well between us, I still care about him."

Espo gives her a pitying look. "He's in cell 7."

Beckett thanks him and hurries past the perps and suspects that leer at her from behind the bars, straightening her blazer as she goes. The staccato of her heels reverberate around the metal walls and attract the attention of every creep in the room.

She comes to a halt in front of cell 7 and knocks on the cage.

Castle is lying on his back on the hard plastic bench in the corner of the room, one arm cushioning his head and the other folded across his stomach. He lifts his head and smiles. "KBecks."

She doesn't respond; deciding that this visit will be purely business as she turns to the officer on guard duty and tells him to open the door.

The guard casts a weary glance from Beckett to Castle, then back again before putting the keys in the lock and sliding the door open with a loud clang.

She steps inside and folds her arms across her chest.

The guard clears his throat. "Do you want me to stay just in case?" he asks with concern.

"That won't be necessary," Kate says, never tearing her gaze from Castle's.

"Actually, I was talking to him," says the guard.

Beckett reels around and gives the guard a hard stare that he takes as a threat. He nods and slides the door back into place.

Once left alone, Beckett leans so her back is against the cold gray wall and waits for Castle to explain himself. She wonders which version of Castle she will be dealing with today.

Over the years, Beckett had come to know six different Rick Castles: playboy Castle, Sweet and Charming Castle, Delusional Castle, Completely insane Castle, Deep and Misunderstood Castle, and eight-year-old Innocent Boy Castle. Bits and pieces of each version of Castle flashed out at different and unexpected moments, but if there ever came a day when those pieces became one, there would no doubt be some sort of catastrophe.

Castle pulls himself into sitting position and straddles the bench. "I like that color on you," he comments Kate's new plum blouse with a wry grin.

She sighs with relief that she's in the presence of Sweet and Charming Castle. "I told you I'd always be there for you."

"Until you threw me out."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" she challenges, taking her blazer off because it was suffocating her and dropping it at her feet.

He takes this the wrong way of course and begins unbuttoning his own shirt. "Are we doing this here? It's kind of public, but hey, whatever floats your boat-"

She shakes her head in frustration that he's not taking this seriously. "Castle, no." She sighs and stares him down. "Castle, what are you doing?"

"I thought we were about to get it on-"

"What are you doing with your life?" she interjects quickly.

His face turns ashy. "Did my mother send you?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm keeping your ass out of jail, Rick."

"Because my mother wants you to straighten me out."

"No, because I care about you."

"Why? We're divorced, remember, you left me." He doesn't say it in an accusatory way; more matter-of-factly.

"I didn't leave you," she shoots back, "You gave up on us. What else was I supposed to do?" Kate feels the wounds being torn open all over again as she has this discussion for the millionth time. She raps her knuckles against the door to get the guard's attention. "Hey, buddy, let me out."

The guard tosses aside his magazine and fumbles with the keys.

Castle clears the space between them and stands way too close for Kate's liking. He puts a hand behind her head and leans in; his jaw lined with a week's worth of stubble. "It's great to see you again, Kate."

She scolds herself by being momentarily distracted by his closeness. She shuffles a few centimeters away and stares at his lips. "It's great to see you too, Rick, but you have to understand, I can't do this anymore."

He frowns and studies her; taking in every detail of her facial features.

She can't help it when she blurts out the burning question that's been nagging her since their divorce. "Do you still love me?"

He blinks before muttering, "Always."

The guard unlocks the door and she takes a step back; her eyes locked on his sad blue ones. It takes all she's got to walk away.

* * *

"He's doing well considering the circumstances," She tells Dr. Burke.

"And how are you?" Dr. Burke drawls out in his normal deep voice that could soothe the mind of even the most anxious patient.

Kate tilts her head to the side. "How am I what?"

"How are you handling it?"

"Like I always do; with as much class and dignity that I can muster," she says somewhat sarcastically. Sometimes, sarcasm is the best way to deal with impending problems that are no joking matter. She knows what he's thinking and stops him before he can say it aloud. "He's not going to hurt anyone."

Dr. Burke leans forwards and puts his elbows on his knees. "He may not _intend _to hurt anyone."

It's the first time she's seen her therapist in three years and so much has changed since then, she's not really sure where to begin filling him in.

"How long ago was the divorce?" asks Dr. Burke to break up the tension.

"Almost two years ago," Kate replies with a grimace.

"Any kids?"

"No. We. No."

"Why did you get divorced? You seemed head over heels about him before."

"I don't think we were ever married," she says truthfully.

"Why's that?"

Kate looks at her shoes and twirls a lock of hair absentmindedly around her finger. "We never got past the honeymoon phase."

"And that's a problem because…"

"I wanted more."

"I see."

Kate clacks her teeth together because it's just way too silent. She looks around Dr. Burke's office. It seems different somehow but she can't quite put her finger on it. All of the furniture is the same and the rug hasn't changed, neither has the framed pictures hanging from the walls. So what is it?

"Do you know what a delusion is?" Burke asks.

"I told you I was married."

"From a psychiatric perspective, a delusion is a false belief that the patient maintains in spite of substantial contrary evidence. From how you're describing Rick's behavior, I think he still believes that the two of you are together to spare his own feelings," Dr. Burke explains. "He's acting out to make it appear that he's happy to distract himself from the pain."

To Kate, it just seemed like he was slipping into his old ways. He was turning into the Castle she had met at his book launch of Storm Falls; the one that signed women's breasts and slept around. Thankfully, as far as she knew- and from what she had heard from Alexis-, he had taken a break from women even though he had nothing against partying with them.

She sighs. "So what do I do about it?"

"It or him?" he clarifies.

"Both."

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

He nods. "You made it clear you don't want to be with him any longer, correct?"

At this point, she doesn't know what she wants so she only agrees.

* * *

Kate walks into Tom's office to find him buried up to his neck in paperwork. His desk is its usual mess; covered in old case files and empty coffee cups. She moves a folder that's covering his DETECTIVE TOM DEMMING nametag and sets it on an empty chair.

He looks up when she enters and smiles.

"You're early," he says, accepting a kiss on the cheek from her. "I thought we were meeting at the gym."

"I have a problem."

Tom sets his pen down and takes his reading glasses off. His office is dark as usual and his desk lamp barely offers any light. "But you divorced him," he jokes.

"This is serious," Kate says, sitting in the chair that he always leaves vacant for her when she comes down from homicide to visit him in robbery.

He folds his hands in his lap and cocks his head. "Is he dead?"

She punches him in the arm.

"Sorry," he apologizes, rubbing his throbbing bicep.

After the divorce, Kate had found comfort in her ex. Tom was familiar and sweet to her and that was exactly what she needed at the time. He had unexpectedly asked her out for a drink one day and she had accepted. Three beers later, she was in his bed and for the first time in months, she wasn't thinking about Castle. They had been together ever since.

"He's in holding," she tells him.

He appears concerned. "For what?"

"Reckless endangerment."

Tom's brow furrows. "Can you get him out of it?"

Kate shrugs. "I'm not sure about this time. I mean, someone really could have gotten hurt."

He leans back in his chair. "Just stay out of it, Kate."

"I can't."

"Don't let him get into your head."

"I won't," she says firmly. "I can handle myself, Tom."

He sighs. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Kate swallows hard and stands up, tossing her jacket over her shoulder. She moves behind him and runs her hands across his chest before kissing him goodbye. "I'll see you at the gym."

He swivels in his chair so she's standing between his legs. "Dinner afterwards?"

She gives him a sad smile. "Sure."

* * *

She walks into the bullpen and heads straight for her desk; hell bent on just collecting her things and going home. Before she gets there, Ryan intercepts her.

"There's a suspect in interrogation room #2 that Gates wants you to work on," Ryan says, shoving the case file into Beckett's hands.

Her eyes brighten at this news. Nothing like a good round in the interrogation room to make her feel better, she thinks as she strides into the small room. She paces in front of the table where her targets sit; the actual suspect of the murder case and his two lawyers flanking him on either side like body guards. All of the evidence is stacked against him, now it's only a question of what charges she will file against him.

She tosses the folder onto the table, causing all three men to flinch. "Sorry about the delay," she says pleasantly.

"Ms. Beckett," says the mustached lawyer, "we don't have time for tomfooleries. My client would like to get through this as quickly as possible."

"Yeah," grunts the suspect, a scary looking man with snake tattoos all up and down his forearms by the name of Ashley Mulligan-an unfortunate name for a guy involved in the mob.

"This won't take long," Beckett assures them. "As long as your client is willing to abide by my charges."

"What are we looking at here?" asks Mustache.

She pushes the list of charges at them. "B&E, battery, assault, possession, theft, fraud, kidnapping, rape, and of course, homicide."

Mulligan whistles and receives glares from his lawyer.

Mustache's partner shakes his head. "We'll go with assault but not battery."

"Fine," she agrees. "Anything else?"

Mulligan opens his mouth to argue but Mustache stops him. "Only that our client's charge of rape occurred after the homicide," says Mustache.

Beckett wrinkles her nose in disgust. She turns to Mulligan. "Were you that desperate to get fucked?"

"Detective," Mustache's partner says, offended by her coarse language.

Mulligan shrugs. "You gotta do what you gotta do."

Beckett glowers at him. "What, your hand wasn't good enough for you?"

"Detective!" says Mustache.

She shakes it off. "So B&E, assault, possession, theft, fraud, kidnapping, homicide, then rape?"

"We can take out fraud," asks Mustache.

"Nope."

The men nod to each other. "Fine."

Beckett hands them the papers. "Sign here."

* * *

Beckett lay on her back with her legs splayed. She pumps the bar three more times before setting it in its cradle and dismounting the bench so Demming can take his turn.

She wipes the sweat dripping from her chin with the back of her hand and takes a sip of water while Tom slides fifty more pounds to each side of the bar.

She looks around the public gym at the other people. There's the usual suspects: the gym rats, the twenty-something blondes that go there to pick up guys, and then people like her and Tom. The equipment smells like sweat and liquid cleaner and makes her eyes sting.

Tom positions himself under the free weights and gets a good grip on the iron bar before beginning his round.

Kate stands over him; her feet at his head just in case he needs help. She watches his huge biceps strain every time he goes down and his sweaty white NYPD t-shirt sticks to his rock hard six pack. The one thing she always liked about Demming was his body; all tall and lean and muscular. He's even flexible; as he's proven to her on many occasions at her place.

She takes this time to break the news to him. "I cut a deal with the judge."

Tom puffs as he pushes the bar up over his head; his arms beginning to shake. "What…" _gasp_, "judge?"

"For Castle's trial," she replies, ignoring his need for her spot so she can continue to talk. She lets her brown curls out of its ponytail and shakes it before tying it up again. "She's letting him walk."

His face contorts with pain as he struggles to keep the bar off his chest. "On what… condition?"

"He has to have someone responsible for him while he does community service," she says, staring down at him. She pulls takes the weight from him and sets it on its rest.

He wipes his face on his shirt. "Kate, tell me you didn't-"

"I had to."

"No you didn't. What about his mom or his daughter?"

"His daughter's with her fiancé in PA and his mom is too busy," Beckett says.

"Doing what?"

"Getting married."

Tom swings his legs over the bench and takes her hands. "So he's going to be _living _with you?"

"I'm the only one he's got, Tom," she hands him her water bottle and he takes a huge gulp.

"Will he be staying in the same room as you?"

She cocks an eyebrow and puts her hands on his shoulders. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Detective Demming?"

He frowns. "No. I'm just concerned for your safety."

Kate purses her lips and sits down on the gym floor at his feet. She bats at his untied shoelaces. "He's not going to hurt anyone."

"He never _intends _to hurt anyone," Tom says.

Kate throws her hands in the air. "Why does everyone keep saying that?!"

He gives her the bottle back and she snaps the cap into place. "Because Castle brings trouble wherever he goes."

"That's not true," she denies.

"Yes it is," says Demming, standing up and moving to the rowing machine. "And you know it," he throws over his shoulder.

She pouts because he's right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dear Reader, please go out and read The Marriage of True Minds by Stephen Evans.**

**Dear Stephen Evans, please don't sue me, I own no rights to your amazing book. Besides, I'm broke and you'll get nowhere by taking me to court.**

**CHARACTER GUIDE: Beckett-Lena Grant, Castle-Nick Grant, Demming- Preston Winter, Ryan/Espo- Sharon, Poncho-Sancho**

* * *

Kate, still dressed in her sweaty workout clothes and a towel draped over her shoulders, makes her way through the partially empty precinct. Pretty much everyone has either gone home for the day or is out on a call. The only one left at her desk is Karpowski and even she is just relaxing with a crossword.

Karpowski nods to her as she walks past; her black Nikes squeaking on the tile floor. She only briefly stops at her own desk to adjust her elephant figurines that had been knocked askew probably by Espo or Ryan. She picks the elephants up one by one.

A few years back, Castle had gotten bored one day between cases and decided to name each one. He had tapped the first one on the head and declared, "This one's name is George."

When she had asked why, he had simply replied, "Because he's the leader." He touched the next one and given it the name Robin and the next, Stanley.

At the time, Kate had found it positively endearing but now she only feels annoyance with Rick that he somehow managed to embed memories of him in everything.

She continues down the hall and to the left; carefully counting the holding cells until she reaches #7.

It's gone dark and she can only see the outline of his slumbering torso. Kate takes a minute to observe him in his innocence; all features relaxed and open and… handsome. His floppy brown hair falls over his closed eyes and he twitches in his sleep.

She sticks her fingers through the criss-crossed wire and shakes the door to alert him that she's there.

He bolts upright and looks around; dazed and confused.

"C'mon, Castle," she says, her loud voice cutting through the white silence, "we're going home."

Castle rubs his eyes, still groggy. "And where is that exactly?"

She rolls her eyes and pushes the door open. "We're going to _my _home," she clarifies.

Castle takes his time getting to his feet. He cracks his back. "You still have your old place?"

"Yes." She hands the release forms to the night guard.

Once they had split, Kate moved back into her original apartment and thrown all of her pent up energy into redecorating it. Ikea and Pottery Barn had been her breakup medicine for months afterwards. Kate had always liked her own house better. The Castle loft never felt like home; it was all sharp edges and vibrant reds, oranges, and vermilions that went well with the gingers but only made her feel cold and unwelcome despite its fiery color scheme. She much preferred the soft browns, beiges, and grey, of her own apartment with its big lumpy couches that you could sink into and messy bookshelves that adorned the exposed brick walls. Sure, it was smaller, but it was far homier.

All the way out of the precinct, Kate kept a protective arm on Castle's shoulder and he didn't complain.

They drive in silence with the windows rolled down and the radio softly playing classical music.

Castle drums his fingers on the armrest to Beethoven and bobs his head.

Kate glances at him and tightens her grip on the wheel. Something about being in such close proximities of him makes her nervous. He surprises her by being the first to talk.

"Can we stop at home to get some of my things?" he asks, staring straight ahead as the traffic light transitions to red and a group of schoolgirls rushes in past on the crosswalk.

She flinches; noting that he said "home" instead of "my home", like the loft was still half hers which it wasn't according to the divorce papers.

She shakes her head; wanting to get home and shower ASAP so she can meet up with Tom. "There's still some of your clothes at my place," she tells him.

"So that's where my red scarf went," he mutters.

Kate never bothered to give back any of the things he had left behind: a toothbrush, clothes, a collections of select books, and a pair of shoes were packed up and buried in the back of her closet along with old yearbooks and other knick knacks that she didn't use but could never part with.

"I want to get Poncho," he states.

Kate's frown deepens. Poncho is a toucan Castle had adopted a year into their marriage while taking a trip to Rio de Janeiro. The exotic bird traveled back with them to the city-much to custom's dismay- and quickly became Castle's right hand man. He took Poncho everywhere socially acceptable to take a toucan (and some places not). The two were inseparable.

Kate liked Poncho. He was a sweet bird for his famously aggressive breed.

Sometimes, she would wake up to find Rick elsewhere but Poncho slumbering on the bedpost with a note tied to his foot with a cute message like, _Good morning, gorgeous, _or _Went to Black Pawn meeting, I made you coffee and muffins, Love Rick._

Poncho was well trained. He would fly up to her after a long day at work with a rose clenched in his beak and land on her shoulder. Castle would follow close behind with his favorite treat- ironically, Froot Loops- and weave some story about how much Poncho missed her and wanted to bring her flowers at the precinct but Gates wouldn't allow it.

It was the most charming courting she had ever received.

She finally agrees to make a quick stop at his loft to get Poncho because he would never stop complaining if they didn't.

Before coming to a full stop in front of the building, Castle jumps out of the car and joggs upstairs.

She sighs and kills the engine; taking the brief alone time to check her phone. There are three missed calls and two texts from Tom and one from Lanie.

**LANIE**: Javi tells me that Castle's back ;D Ooh, girl is he still as pretty as before? Tell him I said hi.

**TOM**: Where r u? Call me.

**TOM**: Reservations Amour, 7:30

The calls have similar messages.

Kate tucks her phone back in her pocket without answering any of them.

Castle comes running back to the car with Poncho on one arm and a box of Froot Loops in the other.

She reaches over and opens the door for him and he slides in.

Poncho jumps into her lap and nudges her with his beak.

"Hullo, Poncho," she says, stroking his soft black head.

Castle watches with a smug grin. "He missed you." He shakes the cereal box and Poncho dives for it; burying his head inside and munching away.

Kate smirks and backs out of the parking space.

"He's not the only one," he admits.

Her heart sinks and she turns away so he can't see the sadness behind her eyes. She hates when he makes comments like that and makes her doubt her decision. He's always doing that; pushing his way into her life even when she's bound and determined to keep him out. She makes a promise not to let him this time.

* * *

They reach her apartment door to find a huge bouquet of roses waiting on the mat. Kate reaches down and picks them up; reading the tiny card buried in between the lilacs.

_I can't wait to see you tonight. Wear something pretty. –Tom_

Castle breathes down her neck to see who it's from. He slinks back. "You're still seeing him?"

She jiggles the key in the lock and pushes the door open. "Yes."

He grunts.

Kate knows that he despises Demming but she doesn't have to explain herself to him. After all, it's none of his concern.

As soon as the door is closed, Poncho takes flight and settles himself on the top bookshelf next to her Richard Castle books.

Castle takes in his surroundings. "You got a new couch," he notes.

"And?" she smirks.

He looks to the kitchen. "Table."

"And?"

"Rug."

"And?"

He takes inventory and laughs. "You got rid of every piece of furniture we had sex on."

She nods and drops her things on the floor. "All except one."

He tilts his head. "Which one?"

"Well, the washing machine isn't technically furniture," she says, hiding a smile. It's true, she deliberately replaced everything that reminded her of their time together which was almost impossible because, well, _everything_ was a reminder of him.

Kate glances up at Poncho. He's made himself a comfy little nook nestled between Heat Wave and Storm Falls. He makes a low humming noise as he curls up and goes to sleep.

"Wait here," she instructs Castle, walking on her toes out of the room and coming back with his collection of limited edition James Bond Blu-Ray DVDs signed by Daniel Craig and Pierce Brosnan themselves. She picks the top one off the stack, _For Your Eyes Only, _and whips it in his direction like a Frisbee.

He has the good sense to duck and it goes sailing over his head; hitting the wall behind him, breaking open, and leaving the disk shattered. "Beckett!" he shouts.

She throws another one. "Tell me why."

He ducks. "Tell you why, what?"

"You knew that this would happen," she accuses, sending _Tomorrow Never Dies_ into the wall. "You knew that if you broke this final straw, I would bail you out. You knew the judge would order supervision and I would step up."

"I did not!"

_The World is Not Enough_ shatters. She prepares to throw _Quantum of Solace_.

"No, no, no, please! Not that one!" he begs.

"Tell me why," she insists, holding it threateningly above her head.

He puts his hands up in surrender. "Fine, I knew. I planned it. Happy?"

She shakes her head in disbelief. "But why?"

He takes a step towards her and yanks the DVD out of her hands and gives her a hard stare. "Because you still feel guilty about the divorce. I'm giving you a chance to make it up to me."

She throws her head back and laughs. "That's ridiculous, Rick. I have nothing to feel guilty about."

"I know that," he replies, checking that the Bond case wasn't cracked. "But you don't."

Kate presses her lips together. "I'm going to take a shower then I'm going to dinner."

"With Demming."

"Yes, with Tom," Kate says.

He moves to follow her to the bathroom but she plants a firm hand on his chest and forces him onto the couch.

She puts the TV remote in his hand and leaves him with a bag of chips. "You. Stay. Here. Don't move."

"Yes, mom."

She glowers at him then turns to leave. She checks to see that he's still there before shutting the bathroom door.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Which one is Castle?

* * *

Kate emerges from her bedroom in a sexy black shift dress, heels in hand, to find Castle invested in a Cartoon Network show.

He laughs as a yellow dog shape-shifts into a life raft and his master, a kid in blue pajamas, uses him as a boat.

He glances at her, does a double take, and then tries to keep his eyes on the screen.

She tosses her hair then ties it back in a messy bun.

"You look nice," he mumbles, picking at the power button on the television remote.

She bats her eyelashes innocently. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Castle looks to Poncho who's still sleeping. "I said that Poncho likes rice."

She smirks and reapplies her lipstick in the mirror. "I'll be sure to pick some up for you, Poncho."

Poncho opens one eye and squawks.

She leans on the couch and crosses one ankle over her knee so she can put her shoes on. "Your community service will start the day after tomorrow," she informs him.

"Where am I working?"

"Where would you like to?"

"The Smithsonian."

"Absolutely not," she refuses. "That's all I need is a call saying that you dismantled a T-Rex." She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Castle, you know if you screw this up, the judge can retract her decision to let you walk."

He focuses on the TV.

"Don't screw it up," Kate sighs, moving to go.

He scrunches his face up then blurts out, "Do you still love me?"

She freezes but doesn't turn around. She sighs, gives Poncho a kiss on the beak, then leaves.

* * *

Tom waves to her from a corner table. She smiles and makes her way through the dark restaurant; trying her hardest not to bump anyone's chair.

Tom stands and pulls her chair out for her, greeting her with a quick kiss.

"How are you?" she asks, putting her cloth napkin in her lap.

"Good," he says, "now that you're here."

The waiter hands her a menu with _Amour _sewn in loopy print on the front while Tom places their wine order.

He clears his throat. "How is he?"

"Who?" she plays dumb.

"Him."

"Oh, him," she procrastinates. "Fine."

He peers at her over the huge menus. "I don't like him staying at your place."

"He's not hurting anyone," she replies, scanning the salad choices.

"He never intends to."

"Stop saying that."

"I still don't like it," says Tom.

She puts her menu down. "What do you want me to do, Tom? Let him go to jail?"

"He can stay with me."

She scoffs and sips her water. "Yeah, I know how that would blow over. Anyways, the judge ordered me responsible. I'll be charged if I don't follow through."

He chews his lip. "Why are you still doing this?"

"I don't know," she replies.

The wine comes and the subject changes to more conventional things.

* * *

They stumble into her apartment around 2:00; their heads buzzing from the alcohol. The lights are out and Kate gropes for the switch while Tom pulls at her clothes.

He's kissing her hard and she has to come up for air every few seconds. Tom's always been a rough kisser and she's had to adjust herself accordingly. His lips are chapped and his nose keeps colliding awkwardly with hers.

He shoves her up against the wall and moves his mouth to her neck as she wraps her legs around him; his cold hand sliding up under her dress; sending chills up and down her spine.

Tom mistakes this shudder as arousal and presses harder against her.

The lamp flicks on and they jump apart in surprise.

It takes a while for their eyes to adjust to the light.

Castle sits up on the couch. "Hey guys."

"Rick! I um. We. I. You. I forgot you were here," she stammers, yanking her dress back over her hips.

Tom glares at Castle.

"No need to explain," he says, standing up and collecting his blankets. "You're adults. I'll go."

"Yeah," Tom says bitterly. "You do that."

Kate puts her hands on her hips and turns on him. "Tom," she scolds as if Castle is a small child whose feelings she's defending.

Castle whistles for Poncho who follows him out of the room.

"C'mon, baby," Tom slurs, reaching for her again.

She jerks out of his grasp. "You can't talk to him like that."

Tom frowns and grabs her wrists.

She shoves him off. "You need to go."

He throws his hands up and goes to the door. "Fine. He killed the mood anyways."

Kate kisses him on the cheek. "I'll call you in the morning."

"What if I don't pick up?" Tom counters.

"You will."

He shuffles his feet; trying to create a witty come-back.

Kate pushes him out, slams the door, and locks it.

* * *

She finds Castle in the kitchen; sorting through her collection of leftover takeout piling up in her refrigerator.

"What are you doing?" she asks, letting her hair down and shaking it so it falls down her back.

"Getting rid of all of the boxes that have fuzz on them," he replies, tossing her a box filled with white slime and what used to be General Tso's.

Poncho soars down from one of the cabinets and lands on her shoulder.

She waits for him to finish before taking his hand and showing him to the spare bedroom. "You'll be comfortable in here," she says less as a question.

Castle stares at the bed; the sheets already turned down for him. "You're not sleeping with me?"

Kate blinks. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not together anymore."

He tilts his head, confused. "We don't have to be together to spoon."

"We are not spooning, Castle."

"But you like spooning me."

"I _liked _spooning you."

"You don't like spooning with Tom."

"Can we please stop saying 'spoon'?" she rubs her forehead.

"You don't like forking with Tom."

"Good night, Castle."

She turns out the light and begins to shut the door. "Oh, and Castle?"

"Hm?"

"Don't forget, I sleep with a gun." She closes the door.


	3. Chapter 3

She wakes up and literally smells the coffee. And the bacon. And the waffles.

She gets up but immediately lies back down; her head pounding. She's still in her dress from last night and she smells Tom's cologne as she peels it off.

Breakfast sizzles and pops on the stove, filling the apartment with its amazing aroma. Castle is blasting Mozart from her kitchen iHome while he rummages around in her cabinets.

Kate drags herself into the shower and stands under the cold rain; letting the frigid water wipe away the remains of the nightmare that was yesterday. As she's lathering herself in body wash, she hears the bathroom door creak open. "Castle," she says loudly over the running water, "I may not have my piece on me but my foot in your crotch sends the same message."

He ignores her and pulls the shower curtain aside.

She jumps in surprise but doesn't bother to cover herself; it's not as if he's never seen her naked and wet before. "Get out," she snaps.

His eyes never leave hers. "Breakfast is almost ready."

She whips a bar of soap at him. "Get out," she repeats.

He chuckles before shutting the curtain. "You look good, Kate," he hollers.

She lets out an exasperated sigh and towels off. As soon as she's dry, she locates a huge faded red T-shirt at the bottom of her closet with MARVEL printed across the chest and puts it on. It falls to her knees so she doesn't bother with underwear.

"What a tease," Castle says as she enters the kitchen.

She stops. "Excuse me?"

Castle motions to her with the spatula in his hand. "That's my shirt." His cell phone is plugged into her stereo and is playing Rossini's _William Tell Overture_. Leave it to Castle to have a classical-dominant playlist.

Kate looks down at the shirt. "It is?"

He pushes a mug of coffee at her. "Who else's would it be?"

She blushes. The truth is that she's worn this shirt to bed every night since their breakup just because it smelled like him. She would never admit this though.

He doesn't patronize her about it though and goes back to shoveling the bacon into one greasy mound.

Kate sips the coffee and is pleasantly surprised at how rich it is for an at-home brew. "This is good."

He shows her the bag of fresh beans he had walked three blocks to get that morning.

She takes another sip then slams the mug on the counter, startling a slumbering Poncho. "Damn you, Rick," she complains.

"What?" He puts a huge plate of fluffy brown waffles in front of her.

Kate ignores them. "Look, this isn't going to work unless you stop."

"Stop making you breakfast?"

"Yes. No. Yes," she shakes her head, "stop doing whatever it is you're doing that you don't think I know you're doing because you're right, I don't know what you're doing so stop it. Now."

"I'm just trying to show my appreciation." He drizzles syrup over her waffles.

"Stop it!"

He puts the sticky container back in the cabinet.

"Stop what?"

"Being nice to me!" Kate exclaims, her voice rising an octave. "It's creeping me out," she mutters into her mug.

Castle smiles.

She stabs a waffle angrily and takes a bite, not bothering to cut it. "Look," she chews and swallows. "if you're going to be staying with me, we need to set some ground rules."

He leans over the counter, his chin in hands.

"Rule number one," she says, "Don't walk in when I'm in the shower."

"Okay."

"Two: There will be no spooning, forking, or any other kind of physical contact whatsoever."

He hesitates. "Fine."

"Three: You have to be civil to Tom when he comes over."

"Absolutely not."

"Understandable."

They shake hands.

Castle leans in close and whispers, "You just broke rule #2."

She recoils. "GODDAMMIT!"

He smiles and feeds Poncho a strip of bacon.

Kate clears her plate and puts it in the sink. She shuts the music off. "I'm going to the precinct and you're going to stay here and behave."

He perks up. "Can I come?"

"No."

"It would be fun," he begs. "like old times."

It _would _be fun but she refuses. "Stay. Do not leave this building."

He pouts and strokes Poncho's beak.

She takes pity on him. "I have a lot of New Girl episodes lined up on my DVR. You can watch those."

"Fantastic," he mutters. He hasn't been to the precinct in years and he really wanted to see the boys again.

"If you're good," she says as she zips up her jacket. "Maybe I'll take you out for ice cream when I get home."

* * *

She paces in front of the murder board, trying to unravel the suspect's motive when her phone rings.

"Beckett. Oh, hi. No, we haven't decided on where his hours will be served at yet. No, yeah, that sounds great, he loves kids. He'll be there at ten. Thanks so much."

Esposito gives her a questioning look.

"Castle has to do community service at the children's hospital," she explains.

Ryan nods and takes the dry-erase marker from her. "That'll be good for him."

"I think so too," she gives him the eraser also.

"What's he gotta do?" asks Esposito.

She dials her house phone and waits as it rings. "He'll be taking around the mobile library to the patients who can't get out of bed."

"That's really nice," Ryan comments.

"It is." She grimaces as the call goes straight to voicemail. "For Castle, press one. For Beckett, press two," Castle's recorded voice says on the machine.

Back at the apartment, Castle turns to the phone as he hears his own voice. He gives a satisfied grin. Poncho screeches.

If Castle didn't pick up, he must have left the apartment or died. Or worse. Beckett hurriedly grabs her things.

"Where you goin'? asks Espo.

She sprints to the elevator. "To hell," she says over her shoulder.

The boys nod. "We'll forward your mail."

* * *

She forces her way into the apartment and looks around for signs of damage. Everything was how she left it but now the question is: Where's Castle? "CASTLE!" she yells.

He jumps out from behind the door and holds a huge gun to her chest.

She startles before realizing that the gun is plastic and is designed for laser tag.

Castle forces the vest onto her and gives her a matching gun.

"Castle, I don't have time for-"

"One quick game," he says, hurdling over the coffee table and ducking under the couch. He ninja-rolls into the kitchen and presses play on the iHome; blasting Led Zeppelin through the room.

She sighs and looks down at the plastic toy in her hands that's flashing blue. Then, a smile finds its way to her face and she chases him down; pulling the trigger as she shoots invisible beams at him.

The music is playful and fun and she finds herself being swept up in the moment.

He laughs and shoots back; hitting the sensor on her vest and making it beep as it counts his points.

Kate screams and runs back to the living room, taking cover behind the TV while he comes after her. She front rolls and comes up on one knee; shooting hitting him in the chest then sprinting to her bedroom. Jumping onto the bed, she ducks for cover under the sheets.

He follows her; diving under the sheets and tossing his gun to the floor.

They get tangled in the covers as they wrestle each other; winding up on the floor in a mess of blankets and pillows. Finally, Kate manages to pin Castle down by sitting on his chest and holding his hands above his head. "I win!" she proclaims proudly.

She catches her breath and stares at him staring at her.

"You can get off me now," he reminds her as the song in the kitchen comes to an end.

She snaps out of her momentary lapse. "Right." She rolls to the side and lies next to him; their legs crossing.

He breathes heavily and watches the lights of her vest blink out of the corner of his eye.

She turns on her side and props her head up on an elbow. "I miss us sometimes."

He faces her, still on his back. "What do you miss about us?"

Kate doesn't look at him. "I miss being annoyed."

He smiles, understanding exactly what she means. "Me too."

"I miss your stupid stories," she continues.

"I miss the sound of your hairdryer waking me up at 5 AM," he says.

"I miss you sexually harassing me at work."

"I miss you making fun of me for being so awesome."

She holds back a grin.

"Love is annoyment," says Rick.

"Annoyment isn't a word, Castle."

"See that?" he turns on his side and runs his toe up and down her leg. "Correcting my choice of words is annoying. And I miss it dearly."

Poncho comes flying into the room and lands in the middle of them.

Castle shoves him out of the way. "You know what I miss the most?"

She blinks rapidly.

"I miss all that annoying kissing."

"That was extremely annoying," she agrees.

Rick inches closer. "I think we should annoy each other." He leans in so their noses are touching. "It would be annoying."

Kate kisses him. He tastes like she remembers; spearmint and coffee. He's so familiar and she desperately wants to pursue it; to run her tongue along the roof of his mouth. Warmth spreads from the places they're touching; their lips, the hand he has on the back of her head, their legs tangled. All of those places radiate heat and send shocks of electricity through her.

She pulls away. "That was too annoying."

He nods and leans in to kiss her again but she turns away.

"I have to get back to work," she picks herself up and holds her hands out for Castle, helping him off the floor. She heads for the door; feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She brushes them away as she takes her vest off. "I'll see you tonight."

"Kate," he says.

"Goodbye, Castle," she says to the wall.


	4. Chapter 4

Tom holds the punching bag as steady as he can while Kate takes her anger out on it.

She backs up, brings her fists up, and kicks.

Tom oofs.

Bouncing on her toes and pushing her sweaty hair away from her face, she eyes the bag, punches twice low and three times high.

The canvas bag makes a satisfying low _boof _sound every time she makes contact. Tom grimaces with every hit.

"Do you want to-_oof-_talk-_oof-_about it?" asks Tom as she punches it twice more.

"There's nothing to talk about," she says, ducking low, and finishes with a roundhouse.

"You're angry," he notes.

She winds up for a front kick. "What makes you say that?" She grunts as her foot hits the bag.

Tom flinches.

Beckett stops to breathe. "Why can't I hate him?" she huffs, taking a swig of water and adjusting her black sports bra. "It would be so much easier." She hands him the bottle and positions herself in front of the punching bag again.

He sighs and goes back to being a support. "Maybe you just need closure."

"I have closure," she uppercuts then lashes out with her elbow.

Tom sulked. "You never called me this morning."

"I know," she says, another uppercut. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Ryan said you went home in the middle of the day," he comments, leaning harder into the bag as her hits come with more force. His forehead glistens with sweat.

Beckett doesn't say anything but knows what he's insinuating. "There's nothing going on between us, Tom," she says with a backfist and jab.

"I never said that."

She takes a step back, gets her feet in the right position, turns her weight on her left foot and kicks. Her foot misses the punching bag but not Demming. He cries out and goes sprawling across the mat.

Beckett jumps on him; straddling his chest and checks the damage.

His face contorts in pain and he clutches his bruised side. "Kate-" he winces.

She kisses him; looking for the spark she felt earlier but is disappointed when she feels nothing. She really likes Tom but she wouldn't call what they have "love". She doesn't think she'll ever truly love anyone again after…

Beckett stands up quickly and offers Demming her hand, pulling him to his feet. She doesn't let go of his fingers as she leads him into the deserted women's locker room and invites him to shower with her.

* * *

The laser guns sit in Castle's lap. He runs his hand over the black trigger and half-heartedly pulls it, relishing in the sound of the _pew _that emits from its speaker as he does.

Poncho nips at his toes.

Castle sighs and sits up; scanning Beckett's bookshelves for something to do. His gaze falls on the top shelf where the Nikki Heat books sit with a fine layer of dust covering them. He notices a significant space between Heat Wave and Naked Heat and he stands on his tiptoes to push them together only to find a picture frame turned on its face separating them. He pulls it down and frowns.

It's a wedding photo but it's not one that he's ever seen before. It wasn't taken by the professional photographer that he hired for the ceremony because the artist's logo is missing from the bottom corner. It's a candid shot of them at the dinner: a younger him is leaned in and whispering something into 38-year-old Kate's ear. She's smiling at whatever it is he's saying.

He remembers that dinner vividly: on the beach at the Hampton's house with a few of their closest friends. The table was covered in tiny white candles that were their only source of light besides the moon and stars. It was cool out and Kate was still in her wedding dress. He had given her his jacket and in the photo, it's still draped around her shoulders; her curly hair pulled to one side. She never looked happier.

Castle concludes that Lanie or one of the boys must have taken the picture on their phones and sent it to Kate who then printed it. It's slightly grainy but it's still a better picture than any of the professional ones he has in their album.

Poncho settles himself on Castle's shoulder.

Castle holds the frame up for the bird. "Look how pretty she is, Poncho."

Poncho squawks in what he assumes to be agreement.

He hears keys jiggling in the lock and he quickly replaces the photo where he found it and sits down on the couch like he had never left.

He smiles as Kate enters with wet hair and her gym bag which quickly falters to a scowl when Demming follows close behind; also with wet hair and a duffle.

Kate drops her keys in the bowl next to the door. "Hey," she says.

He doesn't reply.

Tom shuffles over to him as Kate disappears into the kitchen. "What's with the bird?" he reaches out to pet Poncho.

Poncho snaps at him and Tom jerks his hand back.

Castle doesn't look at him. "Once upon a time, I wanted a dog. Beckett didn't want a dog. I insisted we get a dog. We went to Rio and she got me Poncho. That's a short history of our marriage."

Tom nods. "Ah." He's trying really hard to be nice to Castle for Kate's sake but it's so hard to not to make fun of him. The man is crazy.

Kate comes back into the room with two bottles of water. She hands one to Demming. "Are you boys playing nice?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Demming says, kissing her on the lips then giving Castle a pointed stare.

Castle ignores them.

"Rick, you need to be at the children's hospital at 10 tomorrow," she tells him.

"Okay."

"You'll be taking around the mobile book cart."

"Sounds fitting."

"You can't take Poncho," Kate adds.

"Why not?"

"He's a bird."

"So."

"You're going to a hospital."

"Your point?"

She huffs in exasperation.

Tom looks uncomfortable.

Poncho flies off into the kitchen and nestles down in the sink.

Kate takes Demming's hand and drags him into her room. "We're going to bed."

"What about dinner?" asks Castle.

She shuts the door and he hears the lock click into place. "There's takeout in the fridge," she says loudly.

* * *

"I'm just saying," says Kate as they emerge from her room an hour later. "You should really start taking yoga if you're going to pull tricks like that." She buttons Tom's shirt up just over her bare chest and rolls the long sleeves to her elbows.

The living room is dark and she assumes that Castle has gone to bed. Instead, they find him flipping pancakes in the kitchen.

Kate groans. "Castle, what are you doing?"

He gives her a wide innocent grin. "Making night breakfast," he replies.

She fastens another button on the shirt.

Tom puts a protective hand around her waist.

Poncho swoops down from the top of the fridge; barely missing Demming with his talons.

Tom glares at Castle. "I'm going to go," he says to Kate, turning to go back to her room and get his clothes.

"Yeah," she whispers. "I-I'm really sorry about this."

"No problem," he waves it off and leaves to collect his clothes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She shows him out then storms back into the kitchen. "RICHARD CASTLE, I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!"

He flips a pancake. "You won't get away with it. The boys will know right away that you did it."

She smacks him. "What is your problem?"

"Ow," he recoils. "Don't hit me."

Kate pokes him in the chest and takes his spatula away. "What is it exactly you're trying to do here, Rick?"

He looks scared. "I'm not trying to _do _anything," he says. "You're the one who comes in here and rubs Demming in my face like you don't know how much I hate him."

"Well it's a good thing you're not the one who's dating him then," she spits back.

Spatula-less, he flips the pancakes with his hands.

Kate crosses her arms. "Is that what this is about? You're jealous of Demming?"

"Of course I'm jealous of Demming!"

"You have no reason to be!"

"Yes I do!" he says, spinning to face her. "Because he has you."

"Yeah, but I don't love him, Rick!" she says before she can stop herself.

His jaw goes slack and he recedes slightly.

She steps back several feet from him and tries to keep the tears in her eyes from flowing over.

"Do you still love me?" he asks again.

She bites her lip and shakes her head slightly.

Something shatters inside him and he can't stand to look at her anymore so he stares at the blue fame under the pan, only looking up when he hears her bedroom door slam.

Poncho cries.

* * *

Kate drops him off at the children's hospital on her way to the precinct.

Despite her pleas, he had decided to bring Poncho with him and his bird now rested on his shoulder.

"Be good, okay?" she says as he climbs out of the car. "I'll pick you up at 6."

He nods and watches her drive away.

Poncho squawks, bringing him out of his daze.

Castle walks briskly into the automatic doors of the hospital and stands in front of the front desk. "I'm Richard Castle," he says to the receptionist.

She doesn't look up from her computer. "There's a line on the floor behind you."

He looks back and sees a straight piece of masking tape on the tile.

"If you can tell me what that line means," says the receptionist. "If you can tell me what the line's for, you we can use you."

Castle examines it. "It means a very thin person was killed here recently."

No response.

"It means that this is where I'm supposed to stand."

Silence.

"It means you need to be at least that wide to proceed."

"Go on in, Mr. Castle," says the receptionist, never looking at him.

"I was right?" he asks, surprised.

"Your first guess was right," she replies, giving him a visitor's pass. "Go down the hall and make a right; first door to your left."

"Scary," he mutters, going through the doors.

"I heard that," she says.

Poncho shakes his feathers out.

"I know, right?" Castle says to him. He walks down the gray halls. There are bulletin boards here and there decorated with crayon drawings of the patient's families and various landscapes. He comes to a stop in front of a display of paper plate masks with yarn hair and scary button eyes. "This place is downright depressing," he mutters; looking up at the harsh florescent lighting.

Poncho squawks.

"I agree," says a voice to his right.

Castle jumps and comes face to face with a young hipster guy in large framed glasses. An Iron Man comic is tucked in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'm Simon," says the hipster, shaking his hand. "I'm in charge of the volunteers."

"Rick Castle," Castle nods.

Simon looks at Poncho. "What's up with the bird?"

"Once upon a time," Castle launched into his pre-prepared speech. "I wanted a dog. My wife didn't want a dog. I insisted we get a dog. We went to Brazil and she got me Poncho. That's a brief history of our marriage."

Simon looks at him with mixed admiration and horror. "I don't think you can have a bird in here."

"He's a seeing-eye bird."

"You're not blind."

"That's what you think."

Simon studies him. "I think you're going to fit right in here, Mr. Castle."

Castle smiles. "I think so too."

* * *

"Hi Lanie," Beckett greets her ME friend during her break.

Lanie takes her plastic goggles off and puts down her surgical tools. "Heyyy girl."

Beckett finds some clear counter space and sits on it.

"So how's writer boy?" asks Lanie.

Kate sighs. "Same as usual. Crazy with a dash of amazing."

Lanie blinks.

"Tom's fine too."

"Mhmm," Lanie smirks. "Fine with a capital F."

"Not that kind of fine," she retorts. "But yeah, he is that kind of fine too."

They giggle.

"Is Castle still as pretty as I remember?" asks Lanie.

Beckett bites her lip. "I guess."

"You guess?"

She shrugs but her cheeks turn a dark shade of crimson. He's actually even more handsome than before. The lines and wrinkles that have formed on his face make him more look more defined and he's lost a lot of weight.

Lanie stares at her.

Beckett swings her legs and avoids her eye.

Lanie tilts her head and continues to stare.

"Don't look at me like that," she mumbles. She snaps. "Okay, what? What is it?"

"You have a crush on him, don't you?" Lanie accuses. She crosses her arms over her broad chest.

Beckett scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Please, Lanie, we're well into our forties and he's fifty. There's no "crushes"."

"You have a crush on your ex-husband!" Lanie says incredulously.

Beckett sighs. "Is it that obvious?"

"Honey, you might as well write it across your forehead."

"Damn," she mutters, standing up and beginning to pace.

"Ooh, girl you got it bad," says Lanie, shaking her head and tutting. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," says Beckett. "I _can't _do anything. I'm with Tom now and I really _really _like him."

"But he's not Castle."

"No, but he's Tom and that's good enough."

"For now."

Beckett chews her thumbnail that has been reduced to a nub from all her nervous biting.

"You're lucky," says Lanie. "I wish I had a husband to go home to."

"Ex," Beckett corrects.

"I wish I had an ex-husband to go home to."

"You have Esposito-"

"Who has yet to put a ring on it."

Beckett shrugs. "At least you know who you love."

Lanie peered at her. "You do too. You just don't want to admit it."

* * *

Simon shows him the rusty blue cart. "Here's the mobile library. You take it to every room and ask them if they want a book-"

"And I smuggle them rocks to make chess pieces like in Shawshank?"

"-and if they want one, you roll the cart right up to their beds and let them pick one," says Simon. "You write down the patient's name and what book they took and they can return it to get another one the next day."

Castle examines the collection of dusty old books that include a small amount of Boxcar kids, Nancy Drew, Sarah Dessen, and a couple of graphic novels. Every book is worn and yellowed and some are missing their covers. "This is sad."

"Yeah," Simon resigns. "The hospital doesn't have much funding for these sorts of things."

"We're going to have to fix this," Castle says to Poncho.

Poncho nods his head.

* * *

He feels slightly ashamed pushing around the sad little blue cart. The cart didn't even deserve to be called a library, even if it's a mobile one.

Poncho sits on one of the empty shelves; enjoying the free ride.

Castle wheels the cart to the first room. The door is adorned with a small construction paper sign with _Emma _scrawled haphazardly in Sharpie. He looks down the hall and notices that every door has some sort of name tag on them; decorated with glitter and pom-poms and pipe cleaners. This one is white and plain.

He knocks before entering.

"Come in," says a warm voice from inside.

Castle opens the door and hesitates before entering. "Hey there," he says cheerfully, surprised to see a teenage girl sitting up in bed. He expected to only see young kids.

The girl is pale and a sickly blue color; hair gone from chemo. She looks tired and can barely raise her head off the pillow. Needles protrude from her wrists and attach to huge machines that buzz and beep every few seconds.

Castle can't help but notice how pretty she is.

"Hi," says Emma, shutting off the TV that's playing reruns of Friends on TBS.

"How are you?" he asks, making conversation as he puts the cart next to her bed.

Emma gives a week laugh. "I'm fine, Mr. Castle, how are you?"

He cocks his head. "How do you know my name?"

Emma smiles. "I recognize you from the back of your books."

"You read my books?" he asks, immediately taking a liking to the girl.

"Only all the time," she admits. "You haven't written anything in a while though."

"I know," he sighs. "My muse is… gone."

Emma adjusts herself so she's sitting up straighter. "Nikki Heat?"

He nods.

She clasps her hands together. "So what are you doing here?"

Castle, momentarily forgetting his mission, taps the book cart. "Would you like a book?"

She wrinkles her nose as she leafs through the lame selection. "I'll take this one," she says, picking out a Sarah Dessen romance. "It's terrible and I've only read it eight times already but you get desperate for entertainment around here."

Castle writes down her name and the title. "Don't they ever let you go outside?"

Emma shakes her head. "Hardly ever. There's a small courtyard that they take us out to sometimes."

"That's no fun," Castle says. He feels sorry for anyone who has to stay in this prison.

"It's not all that bad," says Emma, picking at the bent corner of her book. "Sometimes something really great happens. Like my favorite author comes to bring me a book."

Castle smiles from ear to ear. "If you want, I'll write something for you and bring it in tomorrow."

Emma's eyes light up like it's Christmas morning. "You'd really do that for me?"

"Sure," he says.

Simon sticks his head in the room. "Castle, let's get a move on."

Emma's smile falters and she messes with the tube in her arm. "Until tomorrow, Mr. Castle?"

Castle pulls the cart to the door. "Tomorrow."

* * *

With every sick kid's room he stops in, his heart sinks lower and lower. Some of them take a special interest in Poncho and the only time he sees them smile is when his toucan flies around the room for them.

He tries not to think about how some of them won't make it and the parents that stay at their bedside 24/7 are seeing the last few moments of their child's life.

It's heartbreaking to say the least.

He makes a point of trying to get to know a little about each kid; their names, what books they like, what their favorite color is. He writes everything down for later use.

* * *

That night, Castle makes a plan. He puts the stack of papers about each patient on the kitchen table along with his checkbook, bank statements, and contact sheet.

"What are you doing?" asks Kate, coming up behind him and startling him. She hands him a cup of coffee.

"I'm making a difference," he replies, taking a huge gulp of the drink before setting it aside.

She nods, not asking anything else. She sees the spark of sheer determination back in Castle's eye and it's a good look for him.

Poncho waddles around the papers, taking a squat on one of his bank notes.

Castle isn't fazed by it and takes his coffee into Beckett's office.

She follows him; curious.

He opens up a blank Word document, cracks his knuckles, and gets to work.

He stays up all night finishing it.


	5. Chapter 5

Kate sets the coffee on the desk and prods Castle who's asleep at the computer.

He sits up; the impression from the laptop keyboard tattooed across his face. He looks from Kate to the coffee to the manuscript saved on the screen. "Thanks," he says, rubbing out the indents on his cheek.

She sits down across from him. "Always."

Something tugs in his heart as she says this and he hides his surprise behind the white computer screen. She still has a Mac G5 that she's refused to update, he notes.

Kate puts her legs up on the table and tilts back in her chair so she's on two legs. She thumbs the rim of her own mug and watches him read over his story.

He hums to himself as he scans the piece for major errors before printing it.

"Working on a story?" she asks.

He nods and searches her desk for a stapler.

She hands it to him. "What's it about?"

He pounds the teeth of the stapler through the inch-thick story. "You."

Kate raises and eyebrow. "Nikki Heat?"

"No," he says, avoiding her gaze. "You."

She doesn't understand what the difference is but doesn't question it. "Are you sending it to Black Pawn?"

"I'm giving it to a girl I met at the hospital," he says vaguely.

The corners of her mouth draw down.

He slides the manuscript into an orange envelope. "Her name's Emma."

"Oh," she says. He's with someone already? Sure, she moved on to Demming but that doesn't give him the right to… actually, he has every right to see who he wants. They're divorced, after all, she reminds herself. She thinks of Tom when she says, "Good."

He carefully folds down the flap and secures the prongs.

Kate clears her throat. "So what's she like?"

He sits back in her chair. "She's got really pretty grey eyes-you know how I've always been an eye guy-"

"Mhm."

"She's really small-"

So he's into short girls now?

"She loves my books."

Sounds like a typical Castle groupie.

"She calls me 'Mr. Castle' which I think is so cute," he continues.

Kate mentally chokes herself.

He pauses before finishing. "And she's fifteen."

Kate does a spit take into her mug. "She's what?"

"She's fifteen," he smiles. "She's a patient. A bored one at that. I promised to bring her a story today."

She wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her silk robe. "Oh. That's- I thought…"

"Why, Detective Beckett," he cocks an eyebrow. "were you jealous?"

"Whaaat? Jealous, me? Pfft, no," she sputters, feeling her face warm. "In your dreams."

Castle gives her a knowing smile.

Kate narrows her eyes. "Just drink your coffee, jackass, we're running late." She pulls her sleeve back to check her dad's watch. "Where's Poncho?"

Castle whistles and there's a shuffling noise coming from the trash can and Poncho emerges with a tissue stuck to his tail feather.

Beckett picks it off from him and he rewards her with an affectionate nudge on the cheek. "I think this children's hospital thing is good for you."

He writes _Emma _on the envelope with a blue pen. "Me too. Oh, by the way, you know how I donated all that money to those charities?"

"Vividly," she replies. Those donations were the root of their financial woes.

"Both of our names were on those donations and the Cancer Research Society is honoring us for meritorious contributions with an award and banquet," he said nonchalantly. "Tomorrow night at the Plaza."

"Are you asking me to go as your date?"

He mulls it over. "Well, we can go separately but I don't think we'll be getting any awards for our benefits to the environments for taking two cars if we're coming from the same place. And no, it would not be a date; just two meritorious contributors to the National Cancer Research Society of America going to a fancy banquet/ball that happen to be ex significant others," he says smartly. "And maybe I'll ask you to dance."

"Maybe?"

He nods coolly. "We'll see."

Kate thinks about it, chewing on her lip as she searches his expression. "That would be breaking rule #2."

Castle sighs. "I think we broke that rule on many occasion already. So is that a yes?"

She takes her feet off the desktop and stands up; turning her back to him as she exits the office. "We'll see."

* * *

Emma's face lights up as he enters with the same blue cart. This time, it's laden with a few of his childhood favorites: Quantum of Solace, Of Mice and Men, The Hobbit, Jaws, to name some.

"Hi, Mr. Castle," she chirps, much more energetic than yesterday.

"Hey, kiddo," Castle says, tossing her the heavy envelope.

She catches it and tears it open and reads the cover page. "_The Heart of Heat_?"

"Let me know what you think," he says, backing out of the room.

"I think it needs a new title," she says honestly.

He chuckles because he agrees. "I need to make my round but I can stop back in an hour or so."

Emma examines the huge manuscript. "Thank you. No one's ever done something this nice for me."

Castle pauses and leaves the cart at the door. He leans up against the foot of her bed. "Emma, where are your parents?" he asks the question that's been nagging him since the moment they met. Every other patient he saw had a mom or dad or friend at their side. He had yet to see a relative.

Emma puts her thumb to the edge of the manuscript and flips through it. "Not here."

Castle nods and doesn't pursue it; respecting her private life. He goes back to his mobile library. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Thanks again, Mr. Castle," says Emma, clutching the pages to her chest. "I can see why Nikki Heat liked you so much."

* * *

Beckett scribbles on the murder board; laying out the timeline of the most recent murder.

Esposito and Ryan watch her and try to work out a gap in the story.

Work hasn't been as fun without Castle around to liven up the gruesome cases with his witty remarks and crazy theories. It's been two years since he was at the precinct and everyone secretly missed him; although they didn't bring it up for Beckett's sake. She knew that they went to his occasional poker party that she never was invited to. Kate was the only ex-wife Castle didn't maintain a healthy relationship with.

Gates had tried to find her another partner but there was no replacing Castle. Their dynamic had been just too perfect and then ruined by marriage.

"You know," says Ryan, interrupting her thoughts. "You never told us why the two of you got divorced."

"And you're not going to," she mumbled, erasing what she had just written.

"Come on, Becks," Esposito prods.

"Don't call me Becks."

"You're telling us that it was no big deal yet you haven't seen him until now?" asks Ryan. "That doesn't say that it was a mutual thing."

Beckett caps her marker and slams it into the divot under the board. "Fine."

They lean forward in their chairs like it's story time.

"You know how I went to work in DC for a while?" she takes a seat across from them.

They do.

"Every day while I was there, Castle sent me a dozen roses," Beckett says. "They were always my favorite kind; deep crimson but they were a different color depending on the light. They had pink and white swirls in them that but if you took them inside, they'd look like one solid color; like burgundy wine.

"Soon, a dozen turned to a half, then a handful, then just one until they stopped coming all together. I was there for two months and during that last week, I didn't hear from him at all," she swallows, hearing her voice break. "When I got back, I filed for a divorce."

The boys look at each other.

"That's it?" Ryan squeaks.

"No," she replies, tapping the space bar on her keyboard to wake her computer up. "That's _when _we got divorced, not _why."_

"What's the difference?" asks clueless Espo.

She closes her eyes. "Everything."

* * *

The kids love the new books and the parents are thrilled that their son or daughters have something to do for once.

The nurses in the ward give him friendly smiles when he passes with his cart and toucan.

"He's so great with the kids," he hears one of them whisper to the other.

"How is he single?" asks the friend.

"I have no idea."

Castle puts the now empty cart back in the supply closet and goes back to Emma's room. Before he enters, he takes a pen from the nurse's station and doodles a small toucan in the corner of her name sign. It looks ten times better.

Emma is poring over the manuscript; simply devouring the words. She holds it right up to her nose; her eyes zooming through the pages. She glances up for a millisecond when he enters.

"How are you liking it?" he asks.

She holds a finger to her lips as she finishes the chapter. She tosses it to the side. "It's the best book I've ever read."

"Well, technically it's not a book-"

"It's so sad though."

This review intrigues him. "Why's it sad?"

Emma fiddles folds her knees up to her chin. "The main characters obviously love each other but they're not together."

Castle shrugs and sits on the window sill; feeling the hot afternoon heat warm his shoulders. "That's just it; that's how life works sometimes."

"I know," she says, clearing her throat. "That's what's always different about your books. They go against the norm. Most people want to read about this perfect relationship and how romantic it is but you don't. You tell it truthfully."

He looks at the withering flowers sitting in a glass vase to his left.

Poncho flies off of the bookshelf and lands on the hanging light.

"Why doesn't Kara break up with that guy she's with and just be with Rich?" asks Emma, holding up the manuscript.

"Because she thinks that since they're exes that she doesn't love him anymore," Castle replies.

Emma frowns and leafs through the story. "But Kara never says that."

"No," Castle states, "but she acts like it."

"Mr. Castle," Emma says. "Your stories mirror your life. So let's stop talking in third person and just say what's actually happening here."

Smart kid, Castle thinks to himself.

Emma slides her legs back under the sheets and fluffs her pillow. "So who's the woman who left you and why is she dating that dumbass?"

He fills her in on the basic details.

* * *

Kate goes home early that day and works from home. She pushes the coffee table out of the way and spreads her case information out on the rug.

Sitting cross-legged and alternating handfuls of Honey-nut Cheerios and skim milk from a champagne flute, she goes over the case again with a fresh mind.

Her house phone rings and she glances around for it. She locates it shoved between the couch cushions but not before it goes to voicemail.

"For Castle, press one. For Beckett, press-"

She answers it. "Beckett. Oh, hi Tom. Um, no. I can't go out tonight, I'm… busy." She takes a sip of milk then sets it on the floor next to her notes. "I'm working on a case. No, not tomorrow night either I have plans. Why does it matter? Fine, I'm going to a charity ball with Castle. It's just a charity ball, Tom. For _cancer _research. No, it wasn't my money, it was his. I haven't changed my answering machine message because I don't like the sound of my voice. Fine, you can change it later. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

She tosses the phone across the room and curses herself. She promised herself that she would break up with Tom the next time she talked to him but she chickened out. Plus, the benefits of keeping Demming around were great. Not just for sex purposes, he also got her useful information at the precinct and if they broke up, she couldn't ask him for those favors. She knew it was wrong to leave him hanging but it was hard enough to break up with him the first time around. He looked so sad; like a puppy dog whose toy you took away.

Maybe she could write him a note…

The phone rings again and she sprints across the room for it; sliding on the wood floors in her wool socks. It rings five times before she finds it under the armoire.

"For Castle, press one. For Beck-"

"Beckett," she answered. "Hi Castle, how's it going there? You know I have a cell phone. I don't mind if you eat at the hospital. I actually have dinner plans." She shakes her head because that sounds like she has plans with Tom. "With Lanie. Just don't make too much noise when you come in; I'm going to bed early tonight. No, you can't join me, remember rule #2. Okay, have fun. Tell Emma I said hi."

She puts the phone back in its cradle and goes off to run a bath.


	6. Chapter 6

Castle tips the delivery guy from Chang's and takes the greasy bag.

"I didn't know that Chang's delivers here," Emma comments.

Castle moves the rolling table over her bed and sets the food on it. "They don't but Chang and I are special friends."

Emma immediately digs into the steamed vegetables and lets out a long exhale. "This is so good."

Castle opens the container of egg rolls and soy sauce. "When was the last time you had non-hospital food?"

She swallows a lump of cabbage. "Three months."

Castle's eyes widen in surprise. "You've been here for _three months?_"

Emma shrugs and sorts through the rice with her chopsticks; selecting a piece of mandarin chicken. "A lot of kids have been here longer. I just didn't react well to the chemo."

They had taken the manuscript apart from its staples and an array of highlighters and pens are scattered across the table; the story now looking like an alchemist's notebook.

Emma sets the container aside and goes back to the page she was editing. "You should know that it's I before E except after C."

"That's what editors are for."

She circles a line of dialogue said by the main character, Rich Carter. "He sounds like a self absorbed jackass here."

"Hm," Castle nods. "I wish I had someone to do this for me in real life."

"You do," says Emma, scanning the text. She looks up and smiles. "It's called a conscience."

"Ah," he taps his forehead with two fingers. He goes back to scarfing down the General Tso's.

"So," says Emma, putting her papers into a pile. "What's your plan?"

"For what?"

"To win Beckett back."

Castle laughs. "Sweetie, this is life, not some romcom."

Emma runs a hand over her bare head. "I know. But life's too short to waste it with the wrong people."

He skewers a piece of chicken with his chopstick.

"I would know," she says.

He looks up at her. "I'm sorry." He's being insensitive; talking about his romantic life when she's fighting a losing battle with cancer.

She shakes her head. "It's no big deal, I just hate seeing other people wasting the time they have. Look, if you want to be with Beckett, just go say," she deepens her voice. ""Beckett, stop being so blind. You belong with me and that's that," in her regular voice, "And then you bang each other and live happily ever after. The end."

Castle laughs at her matter-of-factness. "It's not that simple."

Emma crosses her legs and stabs the air with her chopstick. "It never is, is it?"

"Have you ever been in love with someone that you can't be with?"

"I'm fifteen."

Castle shrugs. "You never know. My daughter fell in love with a guy when she was your age."

Emma tilts her head. "You have a daughter?"

"Alexis," he nods. "She's engaged now. To a New York Times bestselling author. He writes those fluffy young adult novels."

Emma hears the enthusiasm in his voice. "Tell me about her."

Castle goes off on a tangent about his only daughter and Emma listens intently the entire time. She seems content to talk about anyone and anything besides herself. The times he tries to ask something about her, she brushes it off and turns the conversation back on him. He finds this strange because most girls her age love talking about themselves.

Sometime during their conversation, Poncho had wandered into Emma's lap and gone to sleep.

Emma strokes his glossy black feathers.

* * *

At around 10:30 a nurse knocks on Emma's door. "Mr. Castle? I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over."

He checks his watch and realizes that they've been talking for hours and the leftover food's gone cold. Emma yawns and stretches her legs out. "Thanks for keeping me company, Mr. Castle."

"No problem kiddo," he says, giving her a high five after he puts his jacket on. He walks out. "Seeya tomorrow."

"Remember," she calls out. "Life's too short to short to waste it with the wrong people."

* * *

Beckett sinks deeper into the warm water; letting the bubbles submerge her mouth and nose. Classical music flows out of her earbuds and she flips the page of the book she's reading. She takes a sip of wine and replaces it on the floor next to the claw-foot tub. The small white candles around the bathroom flicker and bounce off the reflection of the water.

There's a knock on the door.

"Are you decent?" asks Castle.

"No," she replies. "But come in anyways there's nothing you haven't seen."

He slowly steps into the steam-filled bathroom and looks at his feet.

She pushes the bubbles over her breasts. "How was the hospital?"

"Fine," he shifts uncomfortably; looking up at the ceiling then the opposite wall.

Kate presses her lips together. "Do you want to come in?"

He stares at her but not her body. "No."

"No?"

"Nope."

She's surprised. "Oh. Okay."

"Not again."

She understands what he means. "Was there something you wanted?"

He sits on the edge of the tub. "I want to do something for the children's hospital. Something big," he tells her his entire plan.

Kate completely submerges her head and comes back up; wiping soap from her eyes. "That sounds great."

"You think it's a good idea?" he had expected to put up a fight about his finances.

She pulls her knees up to her chest and cracks her back. "I really do. I think what you're doing for those kids is doing a whole lot of good. For them and you."

He grins. "I'm glad you approve." He takes the book she's reading, _Heat Wave._

"Hey," she protests, reaching out for it.

"Thank you for your contribution, Ms. Beckett," he says, flipping to a select page and tearing it out. He hands the page back to her.

She examines it. Page 106, aka the sex scene between Nikki and Jameson.

"That's so not appropriate for children," he says, bounding out of the bathroom before she can yell at him for defacing her book.

Five minutes later, he comes back with a stack of torn out pages and gives them to her; all sex related excerpts from his novels.

She shakes her head and pats the mismatched sheets together. If she bound them all together and slapped a dark cover on it, she could republish it under the title, _50 Shades of Rick Castle._

* * *

The next morning as Kate steps out of the precinct elevator, she stops three feet in front of the doors where Castle had proposed six years earlier and immediately digs the memory out from the back of her mind.

_She chattered aimlessly about the case they had just wrapped up. Castle was walking slightly behind her with his hands in his pocket and purposefully moving slower than usual. The precinct was empty and most of the lights were turned off; being close to midnight._

_Kate continued talking as she pressed the down button next to the elevator when she took both of her hands and silenced her with a kiss._

"_What was that for?" she asked when they pulled apart._

_Castle smiled with a certain shine in his eye and said, "I think you are the most remarkable, maddening, challenging, frustrating person I've ever met. And I love you."_

_Her jaw went slack as he got down on one knee and pulled the ring out of his back pocket. "Detective Beckett, will you marry me?"_

_It was pure and simple and the happiest moment of her life._

"Beckett," Gates said coming towards her, breaking her out of a state of nostalgia. "We got a call, let's go."

She blinked and had to think for a second to remember where she was.

* * *

Emma and Castle sit in the dandelion-covered lawn just outside the hospital doors; his new story in pieces.

Emma sighs and uncaps her marker. "I think you should rename your characters?"

Castle purses his lips and looks over her shoulder as she crosses out "Kara" and "Rich" in the first paragraph. "What's wrong with those names?"

"Too meta," she replies.

He understands where she's coming from. "What _should _their names be then?" He's never been all that great at naming his characters. It had taken him weeks to think of Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook and even then, Rook was a variation of Castle.

Emma taps her pen as she thinks. "Lena… Grant," she says. "For Beckett."

"Why?"

"It's a pretty name."

"Okay. What about me?"

She examines him. "Rick Castle… Nick," she looks past him to a sign bolted to the side of the hospital reading _Cancer Ward: East Wing_. "Nick Ward."

He mulls it over. "I like it," he decides.

Emma searches the pile of papers for the cover page. She locates it, uncaps a Sharpie, and puts a huge X through it. "You need a new title; this one has to go." Emma scribbles a title and hands it to him.

He takes it and raises an eyebrow. "The Marriage of True Minds?"

"Shakespeare. I think it's fitting."

"You do?" he tries to recall the verse and is pretty sure that the particular play is a tragedy.

"Sonnet 116," Emma squints into the sun and recites,

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove:  
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
It is the star to every wandering bark,  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
Within his bending sickle's compass come:  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

The sonnet plays over and over in Castle's head like it's on a loop. _Which alters when alteration finds, or bends with the remover remove. _The play itself tells the tale of a young man and woman. When the man comes to face the fact that the love he felt has changed and become less intense and less felt, he changes his mind about this person he'd loved before because what he had felt in his heart wasn't true.

He tugs out a handfull of grass and tosses it into the wind. "You really think it's fitting?"

"Isn't it?" Emma asks, watching him carefully.

"It is," he replies, pulling out a not-quite yellow but not-still white dandelion and blowing off the remaining seeds so it's only yellow. "That's the problem."

Emma takes the cover sheet back from him. "Well, your ending doesn't have to be a tragedy." She folds the paper into eighths and gives him a knowing grin. "After all, you're the author of your own story."

* * *

An hour later, they are forced back inside by a paranoid nurse that insists that the pollen is bad for Emma's breathing. The plump and angry nurse then proceeds to scold Castle for putting a patient in that kind of danger.

"We were sitting in a bed of _dandelions_," he says plainly. He had even made sure that Emma's vitals were okay before taking her outside.

Poncho hacks up a clump of chewed-up dandelion stem.

"Mr. Castle," the nurse huffs. "Need I remind you that you're here to do volunteer work. Your job is to take books to _all _of the patients-"

"Which I've done."

The nurse becomes livid after being interrupted. "And not become personally invested in teenage girls."

"Who has no family here to support her," Castle whispers, glancing over her shoulder where a second nurse is reattaching a number of wires to Emma. The nurse sees him staring and closes the door with a disapproving glare.

"That is none of your concern," the nurse says loudly. Her pager goes off and she swears under her breath. "I'm going to be speaking to your supervisor about this."

Castle frowns as she waddles away. Beckett had said if he screwed this up, the court could still send him to prison and orange just isn't his color. Plus, who would look after Poncho?

Poncho, sensing his duress, lets out a loud screech.

* * *

Luckily, Beckett never gets wind of the incident; either that or she decides not to mention it.

Castle sits cross legged on her couch in his tux; waiting for Kate to get dressed for the charity ball. His blueprints are spread out in front of him and he makes small marks on the paper with a white crayon he had found trapped in the couch cushions.

The prints were of a bookshelf. He already had the financials in order to have a shelf put in the room of every long-term patient at the children's hospital and made calls to his other author friends to donate some books to the cause and made sure to include the requests made by the kids he had visited.

These aren't ordinary shelves he's ordering either; they're special. Each one will be six shelves high and stocked with a wide selection of novels, picture books, and comics. Attached to the bottom are wheels so the shelf can be pushed to the patient's bedside if he or she wishes.

His own novels would be featured also for the parent's enjoyment, of course, and just in case a kid decides to pick it up, he had torn out all of the inappropriate parts; the result being an enormous stack of page 106's in the bottom of Beckett's trashcan.

He's basically scraping the bottom of his barrel; getting the money together for this, but it's worth it. Castle's quite proud of the outcome and is pleased when he gets a call from his friend's uncle, a carpenter, that his crew will begin construction on the shelves right away at no cost. He makes sure that the first shelf will go in Emma's room.

Castle stands as Beckett enters the living room in a sheer black dress and five-inch heels.

She looks him up and down, her bottom lip jutting out. "Not bad," she says, fixing his bowtie.

He helps her into her jacket and offers her his arm. "You don't look awful either."

Kate reaches down to look at the blueprints. "Is this the shelves?"

He puts his foot over the prints and she retreats. "It's a surprise."

"Really?" she pouts. "You let me read your manuscripts before going to publishing but not this?"

"It's a surprise," he reiterates.

She chews her lip to think of something snarky to say. "Fine, then you can't see the present I got you."

His eyes light up. "You got me a present?"

She turns on her heel and walks out to the kitchen. "Maybe."

"What is it?" he follows her.

"Well," she says mysteriously. "It's not for you, it's more for Poncho."

He grins. "PONCHO!"

Poncho soars into the kitchen from Kate's bedroom and lands on his shoulder, wearing a teeny tiny bow-tie around his neck. He squawks proudly at his snazzy getup.

Castle looks at it then turns to Beckett who's snuck into the living room to look at the blueprints. "You mean he can come to the benefit?"

"I don't see why not."

* * *

It turns out, the Plaza Hotel doesn't accommodate exotic birds and the American Cancer Society got the time of the banquet mixed up and their venue was taken up by a bar mitzvah.

* * *

Emma is looking sicker than usual when Castle comes to visit her after his daily round with the library cart.

She still greets him as usual. "Hey, Mr. Castle."

"Hey kiddo," he says, laying a blueprint on her bedside table along with a box of egg rolls.

She digs into the box. "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it today," she says, tearing a huge bite off the roll. "I thought you got in trouble for taking me outside."

Castle shrugs. "Rules should be more like guidelines or else no one would have any fun around here."

Emma rolls her eyes. "You can say that again." The machine next to her begins beeping rapidly. "Damn," she mutters, readjusting her own IV line. The beeping ceases.

"How's treatment?"

"How's Beckett?"

"Fine."

"Fine." Emma picks up the blueprint and unrolls it. "What's this?"

He grins proudly and taps the sketch. "Your very own Barnes & Noble's." He moves over to the bare expanse of wall across from her bed. "I was thinking we could put it right here and then you have a clear view of it. It'll be much more pleasing to look at than this," he raps his knuckles against a framed picture of a duck that's the only decoration in the room.

Emma smiles sadly. "That's great, Mr. Castle."

"What's wrong?" he had expected her to be ecstatic about this. After all, she was the one who gave him the idea in the first place.

She shakes her head and puts on a more convincing smile. "Nothing."

He goes on to explain how the builders have finished twelve shelves already and would be bringing them in tomorrow morning. Black Pawn even agreed to stock the every single case for them thanks to a good word put in from Gina.

The entire time he talks, he can't help but notice how pale and thin Emma is and wonders how much longer chemotherapy will last before she's released.

After a few minutes, she drifts off and he leaves without saying goodbye.

* * *

At the apartment, Castle rearranges Beckett's furniture just as something to do. He finds himself standing at her bookshelf; holding the old wedding photo. He runs his fingers over their smiling faces. A single tear falls onto the glass; right where their hands are touching.

* * *

Kate decides to bail on going to the gym today with Tom; saying that she's not feeling well and she'd rather just go home and sleep. She knows she needs to break up with him but can't muster the courage to do it; cursing herself at every missed opportunity. She's being such a bitch; dragging him around through her mess like this. He deserves so much better.

So when she corners him in the break room and finally says, "Tom, I can't do this anymore. It isn't fair to you," she feels an enormous weight lifted off of her chest. It's like she's been wearing a leash for years and now it's finally snapped.

He grunts and mutters, "Whatever," before leaving.

* * *

She comes home and doesn't bother turning on the lights; immediately regretting it when she runs into the corner of a table. She swears loudly and limps to her right where her lamp is-or used to be-when her head finds the corner of her TV. "Fuck," she mutters.

From the opposite end of the room, Castle turns on the light. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Beckett looks around in shock. None of her furniture is where she left it that morning and what's even stranger is that she likes the change. There's something way more balanced about the layout. She throws her things onto the couch and flops onto it, kicking her heels across the room.

He sits on the edge of the coffee table and puts his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together.

Kate puts and arm over her eyes. "There's something I need to tell you," she says.

"There's something I need to tell _you_."

She sits bolt upright and groans. "Oh no. I knew it, we're not divorced, are we?"

"What?" he's taken aback. "No, of course we are. Where did you get that from?"

"I'm sorry. My mind just jumps to the worst case scenario."

"What did you want to tell me?"

"What? Oh, I um. I forgot."

"Me too."


	7. Chapter 7

Kate lies in bed without sleeping; choosing instead to study the ceiling of her room. Her head is resting in the bend of her arm and she lies on top of the covers; toes curling and uncurling as she tries to sort out her feelings.

It's like being a teenager again; confused and frustrated all the time. She doesn't understand why everything in her life needs to be so complicated. Sometimes, she wishes that just once something could be simple. Of course, the universe isn't so kind.

* * *

Castle is also wide awake; staring at the wall that separates their rooms. He wishes it was gone so he could see her sleeping; she probably looks so peaceful and happy when she dreams.

He scolds himself for continuing to obsess over her when she's made it pretty clear that she doesn't have feelings for him anymore. He can't fathom how one can fall out of love. If she really had loved him like he loved her, there is no possible way that she can't feel that still.

But this is Beckett he's talking about and Beckett goes against the norm. That's what he lo…liked so much about her. She was different.

* * *

She misses him. She misses him so much that it literally hurts; like a ten ton weight is sitting in the pit of her stomach. She wishes that he's here with her; wishes that his chest is pressed into her back and his arms wrapped around her waist. She wishes that he would bury his nose in his hair and she could fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.

Above all, she wishes that they can be friends again at the least but she knows that nothing will be the same after what they had before. You can't go back after you've gone that deep.

She hears her door creak open and she raises her head off the pillow.

Castle stands at the foot of her bed.

Her heart starts pounding a million times a second. "What are you doing?" she plays it cool.

He doesn't say anything; only crawls across the sheets towards her and settles himself next to her.

The tension between their separate bodies is heavy. Neither one says anything but they are finally able to sleep.

* * *

Kate wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange because even on days that Castle gets up early, she's still up before him. She sits up and looks to her right where he slept last night and wonders if she had dreamed the whole thing when she sees the mug of coffee on her nightstand.

Her hand hovers over the rim. It's still hot.

A florescent sticky note is propped against the cup.

_Went to the hospital. See you tonight –Rick_.

She reads it over and over again as she sips the smooth beverage; running her hand over the swoop in the 'k' and the short dash before his name. She still misses him.

* * *

"I slept with Castle."

The tray of medical instruments hits the tile floor with a loud clatter. "YOU DID WHAT NOW?" Lanie shouts.

Kate looks around to check that they're alone. "I slept with Castle."

Lanie's jaw drops.

She shakes her head and corrects herself; knowing how it sounds. "I didn't _sleep_ sleep with Castle, I… slept with him." Kate tries to come up with phrasing that doesn't sound sexual.

"About time-"

"No, no," she stops her. "We just slept in the same bed and didn't touch each other."

Lanie throws her hands up. "Why didn't you? You might as well have, he was right there-"

"Because it's not the right time."

"When is it _ever _with you two?" Lanie huffs, bending down to pick up her things. "Girl, Imma smack you."

"Lanie, I really don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"He's not going to wait around forever-"

"I know, but it was hard enough the first time," Kate replies, handing her a scalpel that had rolled under her foot. "You know what happened between us, I don't think I can go through that again."

Lanie is the only one she's trusted with the reason of her and Castle's divorce and she's now glad that she has her friend to confide in.

"Kate," Lanie says firmly, taking her by the shoulders. "I'm your best friend and I'm saying this because I care about you."

Beckett braces herself from the harsh truth that can only be delivered by a loved one.

"What happened before was terrible and I know you still think about it," Lanie says gently. "But you need to move on and not let it drag you down like your mom's case. You can't live with that chained to you or you're going to drown."

Kate blinks hard and bites her lower lip to stop herself from crying. "What am I supposed to do, Lanie?"

* * *

Castle strides through the automatic doors of the children's ward with his head held high. "Today is the day!" he proclaims as he passes the nurses' station of the east wing. "Today's the big day!"

Today is the day the shelves are scheduled to be installed.

Poncho squawks, circling Castle like a vulture as he traipses around the hall like a lunatic.

"Birds flying high," Castle begins to sing.

The old nurses at the water cooler smile warmly at him.

"You know how I feel," he waves to them. "Sun in the sky, you know how I feel. Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life… for meee. And I'm feelin'… good." He skips down the cancer ward and sings to an invisible audience.

"What's he on?" asks one of the nurses.

"He's just happy," says her friend.

"No one's told him yet?"

"I don't think so…"

Castle stops in front of Emma's door and knocks twice. "Today's the day! Wake up and smell the coffee!"

No response.

He pushes open the door and pokes his head inside to find an empty room. The bed is made up and all of Emma's things are gone. Only a piece of clear tape remains where her nametag used to hang on her door.

Unfazed, he turns to a passing nurse. "Hey, where's Emma Evans? Did she move rooms?"

The nurse's shoulders sag. "Didn't someone tell you?"

Poncho lands on his shoulder and Castle looks at him. "Tell me what? Was she released?"

The nurse puts a comforting hand on his arm. "Sir, Emma passed away last night."

Castle shakes his head and continues to smile; in a state of disbelief. "That's impossible, I saw her yesterday." He sees the nurse's solemn expression. "She wasn't _terminal_, she was _recovering_."

The nurse tucks her clipboard under her arm and shakes her head. "She went through a lapse. Are you her father?"

The corners of his mouth turn downwards. "You mean her parents haven't come for her?"

The nurse frowns.

Castle clenches his fists together until his knuckles turn white. "She died _alone?_"

She looks at her Crocs. "Unfortunately."

Castle grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls in frustration. "Goddammit!" He turns and kicks the wall. Why didn't he see it? Why didn't Emma tell him before now, he could have been there for her! She never said that she was dying so he only assumed that she was there to get through therapy. It's so clear now; how thin and pale she was and how tired she seemed yesterday. It all makes sense. He curses himself for not seeing it. He kicks the wall again and feels the tears form in his eyes. He rests his head against the door. "Goddammit, not again." He cries, feeling himself shatter into a billion tiny pieces.

The nurse walks away slowly.

Poncho nips at his ear affectionately and coos.

"Not again," he mumbles into his hand. Castle turns and presses his back to the door; sliding down until he's sitting on the floor. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

Everyone is staring at him now and he doesn't want to see the pity in their faces. He gets up and walks out of the hospital.

* * *

Beckett pushes open his door. "Rick?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She sits on the edge of the bed and pulls the pillow away from his face; finding the fabric soaked with tears. She had gotten a call at work from some guy named Simon telling her that Castle had failed to show up for volunteer hours today and if he didn't, Simon would have no choice but to call the judge. Kate knew that he must have a reason for not going today; he had loved going there and visiting those patients.

"Can you just not," he begs. "I don't want a speech about how I'm letting the kids down so please just don't."

"I wasn't going to," she says, slightly hurt that he would think that. She looks at Poncho who seems to be ignoring her. "Castle, please tell me what happened." She pushes her hair behind her ear and leans in as he begins to mumble into the pillow. "I can't understand you."

He sits up and pushes his back against the wood headboard. "Emma _died,_ Kate."

Her mouth clamps shut immediately.

He lets out a shuddering breath that catches in his throat. "She died _alone_. And I was so blind, I didn't see it coming."

Kate puts her hand over his and strokes small circles with her thumb. "I'm sorry, Rick-"

"Don't," he says loudly. "Don't say you're sorry. Just don't."

She takes her hand back and stares at him.

"The sad thing is…" Castle shakes his head and clenches his teeth together, looking at the ceiling, "we spent three days together and I don't know one thing about her." He meets her eye. "She only wanted to talk about me and I let her and now I'll never know."

"You do know one thing about her."

He waits.

"She loved your books."

Castle grunts as if this is insignificant. "Kate, I can't go back. I can't go through that again."

Beckett flinches. "They'll arrest you-"

"I don't care," he says quickly. "It's too hard. I can't go back."

Kate knows that there's no convincing him; he has his mind set and he's sticking to his word. "Do what you want, Rick, it's your life." She quotes Dr. Parish. "But you can't live with it chained to you or you're going to drown."

With that, she leaves the room; closing the door firmly behind her. She stands with her back to the door; shifting from one foot to the other, trying to figure out her next move. After a minute, curiosity gets the best of her.

He lifts his head up as the door creaks open.

"What are you doing?" he mutters as she climbs into bed with him.

"You shouldn't be alone tonight."

* * *

Rick and Kate lie on their backs, their fingers entwined.

"That was unbelievably annoying," Rick says to the ceiling.

Kate rolls onto her stomach and curls a finger under his chin; bringing his lips up to meet hers; dark eyes reflected in blue. "I like annoying you."

He puts an arm around her bare shoulders and pulls her down. "Me too."

* * *

Kate sits on top of the washing machine, naked and sweaty; her arms hooked under Castle's armpits and her face resting on his shoulder; breathing in the musky scent of his aftershave.

"Just like old times," he says into her hair.

She laughs. "We'll always have the spin cycle."

He pulls back and gapes at her. "Our last few moments together before I'm hauled off to prison and you're cracking jokes?" he wipes away a fake tear. "I'm so proud."

* * *

Kate sits alone at the kitchen counter; the daily newspaper in front of her. With a coffee in one hand and a pen in the other, she fills in the spaces of the O's, P's, and Q's on the front page. When she runs out of those letters, she moves onto the A's, B's, and D's. _Damning_ _the alphabet_, as Rick called it. She never realized how satisfying it is until now.

Speaking of whom, Castle has yet to wake and it's approaching 11. She doesn't bother to wake him; she wore him out last night and he's not all that young and limber anymore.

Classical music comes out of the speakers of her iHome and fills the kitchen with its calming sound; enveloping her in comfort.

Nothing's changed since yesterday. She and Castle hadn't talked; only let their actions speak for them. They're still separate but now on the same playing field.

Her phone vibrates and she shoves the crumpled up paper aside to reach it. "Beckett," she answers, expecting a call from the boys. "Oh, hello your honor. I know he's supposed to be doing service but… something's come up. I tried-" she lets the judge talk. "Is that really necessary? You can't cut him a little slack? No, it's personal. Fine, when's his trial? Tonight? It can't wait until tomorrow? He'll be there. Have a good day, your honor."

She throws her phone down and rubs some color into her cheeks. Castle's trial tonight will determine whether or not he qualifies for bail, not that he'd be able to afford bail but it's nice to have that option.

Kate goes over to the Keurig and pours herself a second cup.

* * *

Castle keeps forgetting about the handcuffs. Every time he goes to scratch his nose or push his hair away from his face, the metal digs into his wrists. "Are these really necessary?" he asks the bailiff.

"He's not going to hurt anyone," his lawyer, a short Irish guy named Jeffery Greene says.

The bailiff regards him. "He may not _intend _to hurt anyone."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" asks Castle, trying to maneuver his hands so he can scratch his ankle.

Beckett shifts uncomfortably in her seat; pulling at the sleeve of her blazer. The courtroom is hot and smells like pine oil and it doesn't help that the windows are wide open. She looks to the front where Castle is sitting with his lawyer. To her horror, she sees Poncho shift in his lap. She covers her face with her hands. This will not go over well.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Jordan Campbell."

The handful of people in the jury stand as the judge, an African American man with a booming voice that commands authority, enters the room with a flourish.

"Sit, sit, sit," Judge Campbell says hastily; wanting a quick trial.

Kate frowns. She had hoped that the judge would be someone she or Castle knew well so maybe he'd take pity on him.

"Pending trial for bail requested by state. Mr. Richard Edgar Castle charged with multiple counts of reckless endangerment failed to do community service," Campbell reads the ledger from over his wire-framed glasses. "Attorney Jeffery H. Greene for defendant, Paul Sanders for state, let's begin." He bangs the gavel. "Mr. Greene, you may present your case."

"Thank you your honor," says Greene, standing up and smoothing down his dark suit.

Poncho squawks, turning the head of every single person in the room.

Kate swears loudly; moving some of the attention to her.

"Mr. Castle," says Judge Campbell, "why in the world is there a toucan in my courtroom?"

Castle immediately stands. "Once upon a time-"

Kate kicks her chair over as she gets to her feet. "Castle, don't-" she pleads. He wasn't seriously about to go there now, was he?

"I wanted a dog," Castle continues.

Kate looks at him in surprise.

The judge glares at him.

Castle begins to pace the floor in front of the stand. "My building didn't allow dogs. I insisted that we needed a dog. My wife and I went to Rio and she bought me Poncho."

Poncho squawks.

Castle hurries through the last part of his story. "Andthat'sabriefhistoryofourmarriage,thankyou," he bows to the audience and takes his chair.

The jury talk amongst themselves.

The judge shakes his head. "I'm sorry I asked." He turns to the court reporter. "What's the pool up to?"

The reporter shows him the paper. "Twenty dollars that you would confiscate the bird in the first five minutes."

Judge Campbell squints at the paper. "Well, you lose. He keeps the bird. No more interruptions."

Kate slams her fist into the wooden gate in front of her. "Your honor, I'd like to call a recess."

The judge peers at her. "Miss, you're in the jury, you cannot call a recess."

Castle raises his hands. "I'd like to call a recess."

Campbell groans but turns to the other side nonetheless. "Objections?"

"No, your honor," says Sanders.

"Make it quick," Campbell waves a hand.

Castle vaults over the gate and lands a few inches from Kate startling both her and the bailiff. "'Sup, KBecks?"

She brushes it off. "Why do you tell that story?"

He bats his eyelashes innocently. "What story?"

Kate crosses her arms and stands toe to toe with him. "I didn't buy you Poncho, you did."

"Why does that matter?"

"It doesn't matter _who _bought Poncho, it matters _why_."

"Okay," he looks left and right. "Why did I buy Poncho?"

"Castle, you know why."

"Remind me," he challenges.

She sighs, not having planned to go in this direction. "Because of Johanna."

His face falls.

_A few months into their marriage, they both decided they wanted to start a family. Unfortunately, they ran into trouble. With some help from a doctor and a ton of pills, Kate finally tested positive and they were beyond thrilled. Soon, they found out they would be having a girl._

_They spent all their time preparing for the baby. Castle cleared a room in the loft and together, they painted it coral pink, later putting a beautiful antique crib and rocking chair in it. Every day, Castle found a new stuffed animal their future daughter just _had _to have. An entire shelf in the nursery was simply smothered in animals. Kate did everything she could to deliver a healthy baby; eating only the healthiest foods and taking a ton of vitamins. CVS was their best friend during those months. They'd spend hours lying awake together, thinking about what their daughter will be like; which one of them she'll be like the most inside and out. They imagined her growing up, learning to ride a bike, going to prom, off to college, then getting married. She'd be beautiful like Kate and have Castle's heart._

_Nine months later, she gave birth to Johanna Castle. She had the most stunning blue eyes you would ever see and the cutest little pink cheeks. Rick couldn't get enough of her and Kate thought she was absolutely perfect in every way… except one._

_Johanna was very, very small. Too small._

_She died three days later._

"You bought Poncho to fill the hole Johanna left," says Kate.

Castle's eyes sting and he looks away.

Kate puts her hands on his shoulders. "You shut out everyone after that including me because you blamed yourself for her death."

He feels tears fall down his face. She is absolutely right and he knows it which is why it hurts so much to hear her say it. Finally, she's speaking the truth after all these years.

"And you tell people that story to spare your own feelings; to deny what really happened because it's just too hard to face. I went to DC and you slowly stopped sending me roses because you were trying to say that I can go on without you. And at the time, I thought I could."

Castle swallows hard and lets out a strangled sigh.

"But I can't, Rick," she says. "I can't. Everything I see is a reminder of you. And now I finally see it; that all this time, I only want you."

He blinks away the tears.

"The divorce was all my fault," Kate says finally. "It was my fault because I gave up on you when you needed me the most."

He's taken aback by this confession and stares at her in shock. In the courtroom light, her eyes look golden.

Kate shakes her head and bites her lower lip. "I'm so sorry, Castle."

He takes her hand and encloses it in both of his.

She looks at where his fingers are wrapped around hers then up at him.

"Do you still love me?" he asks quietly.

She nods slowly. "Always."


	8. Chapter 8

Beckett pushes through the swinging gate, ignoring the protests of both the bailiff and her better judgment. "Your honor," she strides up to the bench. "A word?"

Judge Campbell looks at her like she's crazy.

The bailiff takes her arm but she shakes him off, fishing her badge out from the inside of her blazer. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD 12th."

As it turns out, Campbell was a close friend of Roy Montgomery and he even remembers Roy mentioning her at a poker game once.

"Small world," Beckett remarks, happy to at least have gotten a leg up.

Campbell takes his glasses off and places them on the top of his head. "And what is your relationship to Mr. Castle?"

"He's my…" she looks over her shoulder at him where he's showing a juror how to properly hold Poncho. "…partner," she finishes.

Campbell urges her to proceed.

"Your honor, I was pre-law at Stanford," she says, "That's enough to know that any trial notwithstanding its case in question is automatically overruled by a competency hearing if the accused is found… incompetent for lack of a better adjective." She clasps her hands behind her back and leans backwards on the heels of her feet.

Campbell looks impressed if not confused. "Let me get this straight, Detective…"

She raises an eyebrow.

"You want this trial to become void on accounts of…" he proceeds with caution, "insanity?"

Beckett blinks rapidly. "If that's what you want to call it but ultimately, yes, I think Mr. Castle's judgment has been compromised."

"By who?"

"Me." She gives him the cliffnotes of Castle's involvement with Emma Evans and how badly it's affected him because of Johanna's death. "He was drawn to Emma because she was how he Castle imagined his daughter would be," Beckett explains.

Campbell folds his hands on top of the stand. "And he feels like he's lost another child; incompetence due to grief?"

Beckett nods.

The judge sighs, noticing that the jury is getting anxious. "Thank you, Ms. Beckett, but unfortunately, without a proper indication of incompetence or psychiatric rule of insanity, I cannot base my decision off of this. I'm sorry."

He's saying sorry for a million different reasons. Sorry for letting her talk this long only to shut her down, sorry for not being able to help, sorry for the loss of her child. She never told him directly that the daughter Castle lost was also her own but he can see it in her eyes when she talks about it. The hurt that shows through the woman in front of him isn't only sorrow for someone else; it's also for herself and it's a deep sadness that he can tell she's been harvesting for a long time now.

Beckett returns to her seat without another word.

Castle looks at her in awe. She slouches into her seat, eyes closed; one arm crossed under her chest and the other is rubbing the bridge of her nose.

In that moment, he makes a decision.

Castle looks from Kate to Poncho to Judge Campbell to his lawyer to the jury then to the bailiff who's standing to his left.

He raises his voice. "Look!" He points in the opposite direction. "Jennifer Aniston!"

Every single person in the room instinctively turns to look where he's pointing.

In one swift movement, he reaches out and takes the gun from the bailiff's holster and brings it up to his head.

The bailiff looks down at him then his hand flies to the empty holster.

There's a collective gasp as everyone realizes what's happened.

Rick stands, his wrists still cuffed and the cold heavy gun clasped in his hands.

The bailiff, alarmed, backs up a few feet and puts his hands up even though Castle hadn't made any move that was even mildly threatening to him

Kate breaks the silence, her chair clattering to the floor as she stands up. "CASLTE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?"

Castle gives the judge a deliberate smile as he replies, "Maybe so." He turns to Kate and winks. "Some even may say I'm… incompetent."

At the same time, Campbell and Beckett understand what he's doing.

Kate shakes his head at him in amazement.

Campbell bangs his gavel right as Castle releases the gun. It hits the floor and the bailiff has the good sense to collect it, never taking his eyes from Castle as he does.

Beckett laughs with relief.

"Trial overrides to competence," Campbell nods to Beckett and she can see a slight hint of a smile. "Deems incompetent by demonstration, overriding previous guilty charge."

"No way!" shouts the state-side supporters. Everyone begins shouting.

Campbell bangs his gavel. "Order!"

Poncho takes flight, adding to the chaos.

"Order!" Campbell commands. "Order in the court!"

"Hey, SHUT UP!" Beckett yells.

The courtroom goes quiet.

Poncho lands on her shoulder.

"Thank you," Campbell frowns, setting down the mallet. "Sentence: state-issued therapy, Mr. Richard E. Castle."

Castle grins proudly.

"Case closed."

* * *

"You're completely insane, you know that?" Kate says as they walk shoulder to shoulder out of the courtroom.

Castle's gaze stays affixed to the gravel. "Maybe so."

She stops walking. "Castle."

He doesn't look back. "Beckett."

"_Castle."_

"Beckett."

"Castle, what happens to us?"

"What about us?"

She sighs. "Where do we go from here?" She knows that even if they get together again, there will always be that history of guilt and abandonment between them.

He squints into the setting sun. "I love you, Kate. I love you more than you can know."

She braces herself.

He looks back at her, a few yards away, his torso slightly turned away. "But we can't be together."

Kate's lips part.

Castle looks at Poncho who's still on her shoulder. "I can't risk another goodbye. I'm sorry, I can't I don't think I'd be able to take another."

She nods. "I understand." She's hurt him one time too many.

He blurts out the question that's been nagging him since she showed up for him at the precinct. "Why did you go back to Demming if you still loved me?"

Beckett coughs. She doesn't really have a good answer for that. "I was desperate to prove to myself that I could be with someone else and be okay. But I couldn't."

Castle studies her. "I love you," he repeats. "But we can't be together, not now."

Kate clears the space between them and takes his hand; enveloping one of his in both of hers. "Okay," she accepts. "Whatever happens… I just want to know that you're happy."

He nods to Poncho. "Take care of him, will you?"

She tilts her head. "Why?"

Castle shrugs. "He's a toucan. He can't take care of himself," he says matter-of-factly.

She laughs. "He can… he just doesn't want to." They're speaking in third person again; what's come to be their forte when it comes to talking.

He knows it's in the best interests of both of them when he walks away.

* * *

The American Cancer Society banquet is rescheduled for that weekend. Kate goes with Poncho as her date, ignoring the strange stares she gets from the other guests.

"Mrs. Castle," the host of the night, Molly Johnston, greets her at the door with a warm hug. "So glad you could make it."

She doesn't bother to correct her on her proper name.

Poncho pulls at his bowtie and flaps his wings.

Ms. Johnston loops her arm through hers and walks down the Plaza hall with her. She's a good two feet shorter than Beckett even with hells on. "I hear that your husband is working on a new project at the children's hospital."

"Yeah," she says cheerily. "The library thing."

Molly nods, coming to a stop in front of the dining hall. "On behalf of the ACS, we've decided to change this ball into a telethon benefitting Rick's cause."

"Really?"

"The money will go to funding the construction and stocking the shelves. Every single room in that hospital will have its own library," says Molly.

Kate looks at Poncho. "Wow, um. That's… that's so generous of you, he'll be thrilled." She imagines Castle's face when he hears about this. "This is so great, thank you."

"Your contributions to our research has been so generous, it's the least we can do," Molly smiles. "We also plan on adding another wing in the name of the Castle family."

"Actually," Kate says quickly. "Rick wanted to have the libraries installed under a different name…"

* * *

Castle cuts the ribbon on the first shelf and camera lights flash all around him; the crowd bursting into applause. He smiles and hands the scissors back to the mayor.

His eye catches on a shiny gold plaque nailed to the back center of the mahogany; right between Heat Wave and Frozen Heat. He leans in to read the engraving.

**The Emma Evans Library,**

**In loving memory of Johanna Castle**

He smiles.

* * *

EPILOGUE

Kate walks slowly through the park; watching kids and their nannies run around the mulch-covered playground. It's autumn and the leaves on the trees are in brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow, giving the illusion that the branches are on fire. She puts one foot in front of the other, staring at the pavement. One hand is buried in her pocket and the other is holding her phone to her ear.

"Captain Beckett," says the new detective, "we wanted to check in with you that it's okay to make the arrest."

"That's fine," Beckett responds, "make sure you get a warrant for both cases, not just the one."

"The judge only gave us the one-"

"Kate," says a voice from behind her.

She freezes. The voice is so familiar and she's scared to look. For the past two years, she's been fooled into believing that every tall guy with floppy brown hair she passes on the street is him, only to be disappointed when she realizes it's not. She keeps walking.

"Then go back and tell him that your captain sent you," she says into the phone. She makes a wide circle around a hotdog stand. "I'm on my way back in, if you have any more trouble, call me and I'll be at the courthouse myself." She hangs up and slides the phone into her back pocket; taking a deep breath of the cool air and looking at the clear blue sky above.

"Kate!" the same voice says again.

Oh God.

She hears footsteps approaching and she turns, coming face to face with _him_.

"Hi," she says, surprised. He looks the same as she remembers; still handsome and energetic but with more lines under his eyes and hairline. Silver hairs poke out through the brown but it looks good on him. He's fitter now and pushes a baby carriage where a tiny boy with red hair peeks out.

"Hi," he says, catching his breath from the jog over to her. "It's great to see you."

She's flustered and she can feel her heart begin to pound in her chest. "It's great to see you too, Rick." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a yellow book. "I just bought your new novel." _The Marriage of True Minds by Stephen Evans_. She had heard from many press interviews that Castle had decided to publish the book under a different name since it was so unlike his others. This one is a romantic/drama instead of his usual murder-mystery.

He grins. "Yeah, sales aren't as good as usual, but I think that one's my best yet. It's about us, y'know."

"I know," she says absentmindedly, looking him up and down; trying to take in everything all at once. She bends down in front of the stroller. "Who's this?"

Castle pulls back the visor and pats the baby on the head. "This is Stephen," he says proudly. "He's Alexis's."

Stephen Evans, his penname, _Stephen_ for his grandson and _Evans_ for Emma Evans. "You're a grandpa now, huh, Castle?"

His heart leaps when she says his name. "Yup," he shrugs. "I'm an old man."

She straightens up, her knees cracking. "Well, you still look great."

"You too," he replies. To him, she looks even prettier than before. She's dyed her hair a lighter shade to accommodate the grays growing in and the new color brings out the gold flecks in her eyes. "I hear you're the captain at the 12th."

She's surprised that he knows this about her. Apparently, he's been following her career just as much as she's followed his.

He drums his fingers against the stroller and just looks at her, beaming ear to ear.

She self-consciously pushes her hair behind her ear.

He smiles at this; remembering how often she used to do this around him. "Can I…" he hesitates. "Buy you a coffee?"

Kate nonchalantly looks at her watch even though she's freaking out like a love-struck preteen internally. "I have to get back to the precinct…"

He's crestfallen.

"But how about tonight?"

His eyes light up. "Tonight? Yeah, definitely."

She nods and there's a heavy silence. There's so much both of them want to say but so little time. Instead, she holds out her book. "Will you sign it?"

He takes it, drawing a pen conveniently from his pocket.

She chuckles, remembering how he said he always kept a Sharpie handy to sign autographs.

Castle flips to the inside cover and scribbles something, tilting it just so that she can't see. He closes it and hands it back to her. "There you go."

Her eyes don't leave his as she tucks it under her arm. "Thanks."

Silence.

"I'll see you at 7?" she asks.

"7," he nods.

They shake hands, touching for a second too long before breaking away.

Both of them slowly turn and walk in opposite directions.

Castle can't stop smiling.

Kate opens _The Marriage of True Minds_ and reads what he had just written. It's in his usual familiar scrawl that adorns the cover of every Nikki Heat and Derrick Storm book she owns but this time, his autograph includes something personal.

**To the extraordinary KB.**

**Always. - **_**Rick Castle.**_


End file.
